


Love Is A Doing Word

by Diaph



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Adoption, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Dark Comedy, Dark Humor, Exasperated Lexa, F/F, Family Fluff, Firefighter Clarke, Fluff and Humor, Happy Ending, Huntington's Disease, Hurt/Comfort, Lesbians, Lexa Can't Catch A Break, Married Lesbians, No Lesbians Die, Protective Lexa, She Needs Some Milk, Sweet, Useless Lesbians, married
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-24
Updated: 2019-01-06
Packaged: 2019-08-28 16:21:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 27,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16726785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Diaph/pseuds/Diaph
Summary: After a baby is abandoned outside of the firehouse, Clarke—much to Lexa’s chagrin—brings the child to the safe refuge of their home for a night or two until Social Services can send someone over after Christmas. Lexa manages to grin and bare it, right up until a bruised-face brash teenager turns up at her door the next evening asking for her baby-sister back.Despite Lexa’s best efforts to brush it off, she can’t help but feel like she has a strange connection to the rude teenager at her door, which has her begrudgingly ushering her inside to spend the night too. Lexa never could have anticipated just how close that connection would be, or the ghosts it would drag out of her tightly-locked closet.(Family/Established Clexa Endgame/Dark Humor/Happy Endings For Christmas)





	1. Chapter 1

Love is a doing word. 

That’s what the sign says above the coat hooks and twinkling Christmas lights in the hallway. It was the first thing Lexa set eyes on when she looked away from her sheepish wife at the front door with that bundle of blankets and tired chubby leg spilling over her arms. She tried to still the blood rushing around inside her ears long enough to come up with a response, anything would do, even if she could just muster up the simple words, ‘Not this time, Clarke.’ 

But there was still nothing to be said. The state of shock was overwhelming. Ten minutes ago, dinner was burning and the dishwasher wouldn’t turn on. Now, there was a baby swaddled in her wife’s arms in need of refuge over Christmas. The problems had multiplied.

“I think she eats less than a dog and she won’t take up much space,” Clarke tried to reason after an uncomfortable period of silence. “It will only be temporary, I promise,” she reassured with that look Lexa never learned to say no to.

“Get her inside,” Lexa finally chomped in frustration with an annoyed glare. “It’s freezing out and you couldn’t find her some real clothes at the station?” 

“I checked, Kane took all of the donations down to the shelter yesterday. All I could find were blankets and an old t-shirt stuffed in the back of my locker,” Clarke explained. She shifted past Lexa uncomfortably and kicked the front door closed with her back foot, the sleeping human in her arms didn’t like the jostling at all. The wrinkling of her nose became a furrow of the brow and then an almighty squeal that neither of them were prepared for.

“Well you’ve gone and done it now,” Lexa murmured angrily and threw her hands in the air. “Okay, just, you know what, give her to me,” she picked the child up out right out of Clarke’s arms and settled the sobbing little girl on her chest. “I know, I know,” she commiserated with the squealing girl and tucked dark chocolate ringlets underneath her chin. “She has a habit of doing this…”

“Can you not complain about me to house guests?” Clarke called from the hallway as Lexa set off for the kitchen with an infant in her arms that was in desperate need of a warm sink bath by her estimations.

“I’m not ready to joke about this right now,” Lexa said over her shoulder with a small glare added for good measure.

Clarke blinked and swallowed uncomfortably, she nodded and blinked some more, quiet in her attempts to find the right thing to say. “I couldn’t just leave her with nowhere to go, specially over Christmas. That’s not who we are,” she tried.

“I’m not mad about that,” Lexa snapped around quietly as she rocked the hiccuping thing in her arms back into a placid state. “I’m mad that you didn’t call. I’m mad that you didn’t ask me. I’m mad that you turned up at our doorstep with a fucking baby in your arms and now I have to be the bad guy _because_ of the fact I’m mad about it.”

“Well alright,” Clarke gave in with a sigh. “That all seems fair.”

…

“So you just _found_ a baby?” Anya blinked and asked the question for the third time.

Lexa watched her sister stare in disbelief at the sight of them. Christmas dinner had made for swollen guts and tired heads. On the sofa, her feet hitched up on to the coffee table, Clarke remained fast asleep with a dozing infant sprawled on her chest. It infuriated Lexa and confused her sister into a state of disbelief, still, twenty-four hours later.

“Apparently they found her outside the fire station in a car seat. I mean who does that? Who dumps their baby two days before Christmas?” Lexa felt herself become appalled.

“I told you her hoarding would get worse.”

“Anya.” Lexa rolled a warning glare at her big sister.

“What? You don’t think this is clinical? She brought home a three-legged dog with a drinking problem and a pill prescription, Lexa! I told you it would only get worse!” Anya hissed quietly.

It wasn’t quiet enough for Byron’s liking. He whined a little noise from underneath the desk where he liked to hide with the underwear he stole from the dryer and settled his scraggly grey chin on his one front paw. Lexa gave him a sympathetic look. At least Byron came with a little bit of pre-warning. They had talked about getting a dog once they had unpacked their boxes and made this house their home. She made no secret of her want for a big larger than life Labrador or even a water dog like a Saint Bernard that she could take hiking. Instead, the universe gave them Byron — a tiny old angry mutt named after the burned out pool hall he barely crawled out of alive after an electric fire tore through the building.

“Besides,” Anya continued, “It’s kinda sexist if you ask me that the only woman at the station was expected to take the abandoned baby home until it gets figured out. Why couldn’t one of the other guys do it?” She riled Lexa up even more with the suggestion.

“Because,” Lexa said with a snap as she loaded the plates into the dishwasher. She shoved the draw closed and threw an exasperated look at her sister. “Clarke decided that the apartment the guys share wouldn’t be appropriate for a baby, and—without consulting me in the slightest—volunteered to bring her to our home until social services can get someone to pick her up. That’s why, Anya. Clarke decided to be the hero yet again… right up until she disappears for a twelve hour shift tomorrow and leaves me with the kid all by myself,” she tapered off with a frustrated sigh.

“Well, that sucks.” Anya looked back over at the two sleeping lumps on the sofa. “They look pretty cute though.”

Lexa looked up just in time to catch the baby on her wife’s gut unleash a long and exhausted yawn. Her tiny fist came up reflexively and then fell back down again with a lazy plop. Instinctively, Clarke’s hand came up and settled on her back with a reassuring pat. 

It was infuriatingly adorable.

“Yeah, I guess,” Lexa mumbled.

“How are you feeling about flying solo tomorrow with the baby?”

“Wait, you’re not staying?” Lexa glared. “Oh no, no, no! You said you would stay and make sure I don’t accidentally mess the baby up!”

Anya rolled her eyes and pushed herself up on to the counter until she was sitting beside the microwave with dangling legs and a beer in hand. “Her mom abandoned her at Christmas, she isn’t getting more messed up than that.”

Lexa felt a sudden pang of guilt engulf her entire stomach. In a few days their lives would go on as normal. Her life would go on as normal. This would just become one of those stories people at parties shook their heads in entertained disbelief at, hanging off of every single word with a glass of wine in hand. It struck her as morbid, horrifying even. The little thing happily snoring into her wife’s armpit would become a confused and angry teenager, as if, some indescribable part of her was missing. At some point, the question of why she wasn’t good enough would be bound to come. A mother abandoning her daughter at Christmas isn’t a story that brings closure for anyone involved. And yet laugh about it at get-togethers and holiday parties they would.

“Earth to Lex.” Anya snapped her fingers in front of Lexa’s face.

“Sorry.” Lexa shook her head and furrowed her brow. “I, er, I’m just going to put her to bed real quick. Wouldn’t want her to wake up grumpy and throw a screaming fit again.” She rolled her eyes and gave a brief flustered smile.

…

Love is a doing word. She glimpsed at the wooden sign as she skipped to the door to let Clarke in from work. For some reason that sign always made her feel centered and more aware of herself, more aware of the promises she had made and tried to strive towards maintaining. Love is a doing word, she told herself as she yanked the door and tried her best to be open to the possibility of not being furious about the baby.

“You better have donuts and—Oh.” Lexa stalled. She looked the slight girl on her doorstep with hands dug in her pockets up and down. “Well, you’re not my wife.” She laughed uncomfortably.

“Wife?” The girl seemed shocked by the word and pulled her hood down.

Lexa stalled again, swallowing uncomfortably and wishing for the hallway to swallow her whole. “A pet name for my husband,” she lied with a small grating laugh, and wasn’t entirely sure why she was lying in the first place. The girl couldn’t have been older than fourteen, definitely not part of the homeowners association.

“Right…” the girl mumbled, suddenly looking around as if she wasn’t sure why she came here at all. “Listen, crazy question, lady… did a baby happen to come by here last night? A year old? Goes by the name Maddie?” She raised a brow.

Lexa crossed her arms and felt herself become infuriated, instantly. “What is this? Are you her mother?” She looked the girl up and down.

“No! Not her mom!” The girl raised her hands defensively and looked around. “She’s my little sister, I had to leave her somewhere safe while I figured some things out but I’ve got it together now. Can you just… maybe… give me the baby back now?” She bunched up her cheek hopefully.

“Jesus Christ.” Lexa looked off in infuriated disbelief. “You left your little sister outside a firehouse in the middle of winter and now you want to just come and pick her up like I’m your goddamn babysitter?” Lexa couldn’t help but look back to glare.

“When you put it like that it sounds bad, sure,” the girl sassed with a glare right back in typical teenager fashion. It struck as stark in Lexa’s mind, made her suddenly aware she was talking to a child.

“What happened, kid?”

“What do you care, lesbian lady? Don’t you have cats to rescue or something? Can I please just have my sister back?”

“She isn’t a ball that landed in my yard.” Lexa stepped forward, hands on her hips. “You’ve got some explaining to do.”

It was the bruise on the side of the girl’s face that suddenly caught her off guard and made her unsure of how to be quite so angry. It was tucked away behind a thick rope of jet black hair, hidden away underneath her sweatshirt hood but not hidden quite well enough. The girl caught her looking and readjusted herself. The clogs began turning in Lexa’s mind. They were fitting together. Who ever this kid was, her shit definitely wasn’t together. She was skin and bone, greasy haired, maybe a hundred pounds of whatever it was she was scavenging on the streets. Exasperated, Lexa felt the sign in the hallway staring at her.

“What’s your name?” Lexa grumbled.

“Wellesley. Like the college.”

“I went there, Massachusetts is nice in Spring. Now, what’s your real name?” She insisted.

“You asked for a name and I gave you one. Can I have my sister back now?”

“Doesn’t work that way, Wellesley. How old are you?”

“Old enough.”

“Nice try.”

“Seventeen,” Wellesley said with a stern roll of her eyes.

“Nice try,” Lexa repeated, tapping her foot impatiently.

Wellesley inhaled and held her pause for a moment. “I’m fifteen.”

“Nice try—”

“I promise,” Wellesley said, hands held up again. “Fifteen years old. Nearly sixteen. December twenty-seventh, two-thousand and three. I’m just a little small. I don’t exactly have ID but I’m telling the truth, I promise.”

Lexa remembered that winter well. She was fifteen that year too, trying to feel her way through the knowledge that it would be the last Christmas with Mom, trying to make some kind of sense of that information when she should have been busy remembering the smell of her perfume and the particular cackle of her laugh. It didn’t make for happy memories. It left her morose and stuck.

“Where are you staying and who are you staying with?” The pointless interrogation continued.

“Some place.” Wellesley shrugged. “There’s a lock on the door. A bed. It’s a start.”

“Yeah, really sounds like the Ritz Carlton.”

“It’s a start!” The girl insisted with a snap. “I’m staying with a friend who has a spare room. She’s got a baby around too so I figured Maddie would have a friend. Her boyfriend pays the heating bill so it’s warm and dry most of the time, no mould or anything. I don’t expect you to get it but it’s a solid start.”

“And the black eye?”

“None of your fucking business, lady!” Wellesley huffed and shifted her weight with indignation.

“Where’s your mom?” Lexa asked quietly.

“Not around.” Wellesley shrugged.

“Yeah, me too,” Lexa said and leaned against the doorframe. She exhaled, and in her mind, she told the sign in the hallway to fuck off. Lexa continued, “Look, I’m sorry. I’m wasting your time. I’m not giving you your little sister to run off into the night with. The social worker is coming tomorrow afternoon and you’re more than welcome to come back then but I think it’s best if we wait until the authorities are around to clear this up.”

“Wait, nobody has came to check on Maddie?” Wellesley screwed up her face furiously. “The fucking system, man! Nobody took her to an emergency room or—I don’t know—cared that some lesbian just took a toddler home?! I assumed you were like a social worker or something!”

“You’re really not in a position to be indignant right now,” Lexa warned with a serious voice. “My wife is a paramedic at the fire department where you dropped her off. The kid was fine. The hospitals are dealing with flu season and social services are… well, I don’t know exactly what social services are dealing with, but I’m sure it’s very important and so it made more sense for her to stay here until Tuesday.”

“Can I at least see her?” Wellesley suddenly became a child again, somehow scared and hopeful, simultaneously.

“We’ll figure it out tomorrow, kid.” Lexa stood strong.

To her surprise, Wellesley didn’t argue. The girl just slumped and offered a concessionary nod. Lexa wasn’t sure what to do with that information. She was ready for the argument. The fight. The demands. The headache that she had inherited because once again, Clarke was conveniently at work.

It was when the girl turned around to walk back down the steps that Lexa noticed the dark stain spreading down the back of her jeans and immediately looked away in embarrassment for both herself and the teenager. She was suddenly filled to the brim with memories of home studies, of accidentally getting her period, of Stacey Mulligan pointing it out to the rest of the class, of the long walk down the hallway towards the school nurse’s office, of the instantaneous moment she became part of the secret sisterhood of women with tampons tucked away in their purses every day of the month just in case someone else needs one. 

“Hey, er, Wellesley?” Lexa spoke up with a wince.

“What?” Wellesley snapped around.

“I think you’re bleeding.”

Wellesley looked down and didn’t seem surprised at all. Lexa watched the teenager blink and scratch her head, mumbling haphazard curse words under her breath as she rummaged around in her sweatshirt pocket for something. She wasn’t at all scrambling or frantic or embarrassed the way Lexa anticipated her to be. It was confusing.

“Do you have any tissues? Like the napkins that takeout comes with?” Wellesley barely blushed as she looked back up.

“You don’t want a tampon?” Lexa burned crimson on her behalf.

“I don’t have any socks or money I can spare right now. A tampon will last what? Five hours? If you’ve got like a bunch of napkins around I can stretch those out until I can get some money together—”

“Get the hell inside,” Lexa blurted. She felt the sign laugh at her victoriously. “Seriously, do you think baby food and diapers grow on magic anti-capitalism trees? You can’t afford tampons but you can manage a baby? This is some straight up The Blind Side bullshit. Who do you think I am, Sandra Bullock? Do I look like I’m going to solve your problems with nothing but bangs and privilege?” Lexa ranted to precisely no one but herself as she pulled the girl inside and closed the door. “You call your friend or whoever it is that you need to call and you tell them that you’re somewhere safe tonight and that you’re meeting with social services tomorrow about your sister. When was the last time you ate?” Lexa bristled. 

The girl suddenly became sheepish. “This morning?”

“Go,” Lexa said, pointing off to the downstairs bathroom. “Go and take a hot shower. I’ll get you some clean clothes and heat some food. We’ll make up the futon for tonight but so help me god, Wellesley.” Lexa stopped for breath and leaned in close, her eyes becoming narrowed and serious. “If you think you’re going to take off with your little sister and make my Christmas even weirder than it already is — I will duct tape you to that goddamn armchair until the case worker gets here tomorrow. Do not test me.”

“Lady, you’re the one who dragged me in here.”

“Don’t reverse-psychology me right now.”

“Alright,” Wellesley said quietly with a small roll of her eyes. “Thanks? I guess?”

“Go,” Lexa said calmer this time, nodding towards the bathroom. “You’ll find everything you need in the medicine cabinet. Just, please don’t make me regret this? Please? This is me trying to do something good.”

“I won’t runaway with my sister in the middle of the night if that’s what you’re asking,” Wellesley replied with three fingers raised in the air. “Scouts honour,” she assured.

Lexa watched the teenager turn on her tattered scuffed boots and slip inside the downstairs bathroom. For a moment, she wondered whether this was tantamount to child abduction. She immediately pushed the thought aside. Where else was this kid going to stay tonight? In the crack den she described earlier? No, this was sensible, Lexa promised herself, already wincing into the shrill sound of her sister’s chiding tomorrow.

Once again, the problems had multiplied.

 

[You can find more of my stories and exclusive works ahead of the curve HERE!](http://diaphdiaph.tumblr.com)


	2. Chapter 2

“Honey, I smell food on the table! You cooked this late?!” Clarke hollered and closed the front door.

Lexa listened to the sound of shoes being kicked off, of the yapping dog being tickled and subdued, of the coat being hung up on the peg. She finished off the glass of cabernet that had been nursed for the last half an hour as her wife’s footsteps thudded down the hall.

“Well, hello there.” Clarke blinked and stood at the living room door, dumbfounded. “Are you wearing my clothes?” She noticed the teenager wearing a rolled up flannel that was too big for her frame. Wellesley stopped pushing her food around the plate and peered up at Clarke like a mouse that had just been caught in the pantry. The two of them stared at each other in silence, seemingly waiting for the other to speak.

Lexa leaned back against her dining chair and wanted to gloat. Two could play this game, she thought to herself briefly before sensibility came back into the picture. Using a teenage runaway to one-up her wife was below the belt for all parties involved, and so instead she kept her mouth closed and nodded at the empty seat at the table. The urge to moonslide over to her wife and victory dance in her face was resisted.

“This is Wellesley,” Lexa introduced her wife to their guest, nonchalantly dabbing her mouth with a napkin as she did. “The little angel you so lovingly brought home yesterday? Wellesley is her sister. She’s going to be staying with us tonight until social services can swing by tomorrow.”

“Oh,” Clarke hummed and nodded, utterly unphased. “The more the merrier, right?”

The urge to sour was palpable. She watched Clarke drop her bag on the wooden floor and hang up her baseball cap without so much as a second question. It was infuriating how Clarke did it, how she managed to be so hard to frustrate. Lexa on the other hand knew that it was an entirely different story with herself. Somehow, between the two of them, constantly at odds with one another in that regard, it still managed to work perfectly. The arguments always figured themselves out and the rest of the time was a breeze.

“I take it I have you to thank for dropping a baby off at the firehouse last night?” Clarke lifted her eyebrows and took a seat at the table.

The kid just blanked and hung her head, mumbling under her breath and trying to figure out what to say.

Lexa suddenly felt sorry for her.

“It’s alright.” Clarke let it go with a warm laugh and dug the serving spoon into the casserole. “Look, shit happens. You did the right thing and took your baby sister somewhere safe. I don’t need details, I just need to know if you’ve got family we can call so they know you’re not out on the streets?” She slapped the portion down on her plate and started to dig in.

“She married you?” Wellesley shot Lexa a look of sheer disbelief. “But she’s so nice?” Her brows knitted together as if the math just didn’t make sense.

“Aww,” Clarke chuckled and patted Lexa’s knee. “Well every cloud has a silver lining, right?” She teased and shovelled another mouthful of casserole.

“Did you just call me a cloud?” Lexa lowered her voice to a displeased whisper and glared, her fork and knife clattering against the plate as she dropped the cutlery down.

A heat came over her entire body. It refused to dissipate. Of course, her wife would get to be the hero yet again, because rescuing kittens and stifling infernos and bringing home babies—without calling ahead—just wasn’t enough. The table became uncomfortable and quiet for moment. Clarke laughed and cocked her the soft raised-eyebrowed look, the one she reserved for when Lexa was being irate and needed cooling down. Lexa hated the way it worked every time. Her wife was too beautiful for her own damn good. She suddenly felt guilty and aware of herself.

“Sorry,” Lexa muttered and glanced at Wellesley. “Sometimes I’m astounded she married me too. I guess I’m punching above my belt, huh?” She lifted the cutlery off her plate and resumed her meal.

“I’m sure you must have some redeeming qualities.” Wellesley shrugged and turned back to her meal too.

“Many,” Clarke interrupted before Lexa’s temper could flare again over the kid’s forthrightness. “Once upon a time she saved my life. Has she told you that story yet? Oh boy, she loves to tell everyone that story.” Clarke leaned forward and dropped her brows.

“You say it as that isn’t the story of how we met! It’s our cute-meet story!” Lexa couldn’t help but smirk. It was a great story after all.

“You saved her life?” Wellesley became interested, glancing between the pair of them.

Clarke nodded and swallowed her food.

“I was still a rookie back then. It was my second month on the job and there was a factory fire down in Bushford County. The building was unstable and we were told to evacuate but I had a feeling I could hear banging in the back of the warehouse. I thought somebody was trapped and couldn’t shout for help…” Clarke trailed and smirked to herself, shaking her head. “Turns out it was just a broken pipe hitting a steel beam. I turned back around to leave but a light fixture fell out the ceiling and knocked me out cold.”

“Knocked her oxygen mask off too.” Lexa added, pouring a glass of wine for Clarke while she regaled the teenage runaway with their cute-meet. “It took them fifteen minutes to find her and get her out of there, which doesn’t sound like a long time but smoke kills quicker than fire. She stopped breathing twice on the way to the hospital. It’s a wonder she didn’t stay dead.”

“What can I say, I’m persistent?” Clarke raised her glass and clinked it against Lexa’s drink.

“No, dearest. I was just good at my job.” Lexa raised an eyebrow in her direction and slugged back a sip of wine.

“You were the best, baby.” Clarke corrected with a teasing whisper and narrowed her eyes slightly. “So good I had to put a ring on it. Best healthcare plan I ever took out.” Clarke smiled and rested her hand down over Lexa’s fingers.

“Oh, quit it!” Lexa balked and rolled her eyes.

“Love you, mean it.” Clarke grabbed her fleeing hand and kissed her ring finger chastely, which earned an embarrassed blush of Lexa’s cheeks. “She’s the silver lining, kid. The best woman I know. You got lucky when I brought your little sister back here.”

Wellesley paused and nodded her head, absorbing the information. She glanced around at their home, at the pictures on the walls, at a scruffy three-legged Byron limping to rest his chin on Clarke’s lap under the table. She seemed on the brink of a question, as if something wasn’t making sense in her head.

“So you guys have it all figured out, huh? Loved up together and married, nice house to boot, good jobs, vacations every year?” She nodded her head towards the photo of them in Maui. “How come you don’t have kids of your own?” Lexa tensed at the question.

Clarke squeezed her knee under the table, as if she were trying to remind her that it was a non-issue.

“I don’t practice medicine anymore. I’m thinking about going back to school and studying something else.” She shrugged. “Now isn’t really the time but maybe, someday. We’re not in a rush, right honey?” Lexa looked to Clarke.

“Not at all,” Clarke didn’t skip a beat.

“How come you quit being a doctor? Did you kill someone?” Wellesley chuckled, waiting for the pair of them to laugh too. She sobered herself when she realised no one else was laughing and glanced between them, concerned by the silence. “Wait… did you kill someone?” she murmured and knitted her brows together.

“No,” Clarke snorted in disbelief. “You’re a dark kid, do you know that? She just didn’t enjoy her job anymore. Sometimes adults change careers.” She laughed slightly and shook her head.

Lexa nodded along with the statement, pushing food around her plate as she sat with her thoughts. The pair of them chattered and got to know one another while dinner was finished off. Clarke had a knack for finding common ground with strangers and making them feel at ease, part and parcel of her job, really. It turned out they both loved collecting baseball cards, equally hated the Giants, and ate sandwiches at the same spot on Danfield, which Clarke promised faithfully she would take the kid by before the caseworker came tomorrow. That was how they passed the time while Lexa eventually cleared away the plates and dodged the pooch snaking between her feet looking for leftovers, talking about everything and nothing.

Lexa dug her elbows in the sink and took her frustrations out on the dishes, her mind full of memories she would rather not remember. She prayed for a distraction when the realisation came that dirty dishes and background conversation from the living room wasn’t enough. Her miracle came quicker than she thought when the sound of tiny wailing squeals rang through the house.

“I’ve got it!” Lexa hollered and slapped her wet hands on her jeans. “You two set up the sofa bed, it’s getting late. I’ll go and check on the human fire alarm.” She rushed out of the kitchen.

“It’s okay, I can do it.” Wellesley shot up from the sofa and tried to follow. Clarke softly grabbed the teenager’s arm and halted her with a tight-smiled expression.

“She’s happy when she’s doing things. I’m letting you crash here, can you let me keep her busy? Favour for a favour?” Lexa heard her wife murmur it quietly as she took the stairs two at a time. She wasn’t wrong, but it was still irritating to listen to.

The human fire alarm was wailing herself red-faced and furious. Lexa couldn’t help but empathise as she cradled the baby out of the makeshift cot they had fashioned out of a twin bed shoved into the corner of the room with a mountain of pillows built up against the sides to stop her falling out.

“I know, honey,” Lexa sighed and bounced the baby on her chest. “Christmas is the worst when you don’t have a mom around, I know that.” She couldn’t help but think of how much she missed her own, still.

Maddie’s squeals turned into angry whines, into hiccups and distressed whimpers, as if she empathised entirely with what Lexa was saying. It wasn’t much of a victory, but it was a start.

“At least we have a name for you now, Maddie,” Lexa whispered and rocked the child, still unsure of herself. “I’m sorry your mom isn’t around. It won’t stop hurting but it will get easier, I know that first hand. You’ll survive it.” The little girl grew quiet with just the occasional hiccup, her cheek burying deep into the warmth of Lexa’s chest.

Lexa couldn’t help but smile.

“You’ll grow up tough and smart, you’ll burn through a few bad boyfriends and then you’ll level out.” She said, nodding to herself with some certainty. “Who knows, maybe you’ll fall in love and marry a nice firefighter who brings home babies and eavesdrops behind the door when you’re having private conversations…” Lexa crooned and glanced at the shadow on the wall with a smirk.

“Wrong one, sorry,” Wellesley said with half a smile and pushed the door open a little wider. “Hi Maddie, you miss me buddy?” She toed forward with a sugary grin, arms reached out towards the little girl.

Maddie twisted in Lexa’s arms as soon as she set eyes on her sister until the message was received loud and clear. Lexa handed the little girl to the teenager and couldn’t quite wrap her head around how much younger Wellesley looked with a child in her hands. It was a stark reminder that Wellesley was just a little kid too, figuring out how to be a part of the absent mom club and survive the streets, simultaneously. Lexa couldn’t empathise with the last part because like him or not she did always have dad around plus a roof over her head. It dawned on Lexa that all things considered, she had it pretty good.

“Do you have any sisters?” Wellesley asked and couldn’t take her eyes off Maddie as she rocked her.

“Two.” Lexa cleared her throat.

“Did it help? You know, having them around when your mom died and stuff?” Wellesley look at her curiously.

“I guess. Sadie was the oldest so she took over mom-duties and kept me on the straight and narrow as best she could. Anya joined the army pretty soon after mom died so she wasn’t around much but we’re close now that she’s finished with all of that,” Lexa scratched her head and sighed.

“And Sadie? Is she not around anymore?” Wellesley pried.

“What makes you say that?” Lexa stiffened as Wellesley slumped herself down on the edge of the bed.

“You used past-tense and said she was the oldest. If she was alive you would have said she is the oldest. Unless you’re just not as smart as you think you are...” Wellesley trailed and raised her brows.

“Sadie is dead too,” Lexa inflicted the words without any emotion in her voice. It made Wellesley snap and stare at her in surprise. “She was thirty-eight when she died, which was three years younger than my mom. Thankfully she didn’t leave any children.”

“Fuck, I’m sorry.” Wellesley screwed up her face and shook her head. “I was really hoping you just misspoke so I could grammar-police your ass. Now I just feel like a dick.”

“It’s fine, I have one sister left and a cantankerous father who now lives in Michigan with his new wife and step-kids. It’s more than what you’ve got, kid.” Lexa folded her arms.

“Wow, that was a low blow.” Wellesley scowled and rubbed her little sister’s back, she finally broke and laughed. “So do you think there’s hope for me too? A nice firefighter husband who brings shit-outta-luck kids back to my big swanky house in the suburbs?” She grinned.

Lexa inhaled and paused, suddenly remembering once again that Wellesley was just a child, no matter how quick-mouthed or dry-witted. She sat down in armchair opposite the bed and crossed her legs, pretending to think about it.

“You know, if you buck your ideas up and realise you deserve more than the shitbag who put that bruise on your face, there might just be hope for you yet.” Lexa lifted her eyebrows sternly.

“So do you have what your mom and sister died from? Is that why you’re like this?” Wellesley exhaled a deep troubled sigh.

Lexa grew quiet and wide-eyed at her brashness.

“Oh,” Wellesley feigned surprise. “I’m sorry, was that me overstepping into things that aren’t my business?” She raised her brows sarcastically.

Wellesley turned back to the baby in her arms and rocked her softly now she was asleep. There was a kiss pressed to her forehead, then a gentle rub of her spine as she carefully juggled her back inside the pillow-fortress. Lexa watched on in shocked silence.

“I think I get it,” Lexa finally spoke with a scoff. “You make people feel like shit when you feel like shit. That’s your defense-mechanism because you’ve learned the hard way you’re too thin and weedy to hurt with your fists.” Lexa stood up and crossed her arms. “For the record, I don’t have Huntington’s Disease. Thank you for your concern though. Now, I think it’s bedtime.” She nodded her head towards the door.

“Huntington’s, huh?” Wellesley hummed as she got herself up. “That’s rough. For what it’s worth I am sorry they died. I’m not sorry for being an asshole though, you kinda had it coming with the whole holier-than-thou attitude.” She sniffed at Lexa and brushed past her towards the door.

“Maybe you’re right.” Lexa considered the possibility as she closed the bedroom door behind them. “Funny thing is, I’m still the adult and you’re still the teenage runaway crashing in my house, so how about you fix your damn attitude if you want any help from me vouching to the caseworker tomorrow that you’re not a complete dickhead. Work for you?” She glanced over her shoulder with a scowling smile.

Wellesley stiffened and grew quiet like a scolded child.

“I’ll take myself downstairs,” she mumbled and turned on her feet.

“Be sure to knock on my door if you need cookies and milk, honey!” Lexa called after her sarcastically.

Lexa strolled into her bedroom and grimaced as the teenager downstairs closed the living room door. She kicked off her pants and ripped the shirt from over her head, bristling quietly under her breath while her wife turned on the side table lamp with an empathetic look written all over her face.

“How much did you hear?” Lexa glanced at her with a frown.

“All of it,” Clarke sighed and patted the empty side of the bed. “For what it’s worth, you handled her ass like a pro.”

“You think?” Lexa got between the sheets.

“Mmhm,” Clarke pecked her cheek and settled behind her. “Call me crazy, but I think you have a soft spot for her.”

“Yeah, she’s a real angel, Clarke.”

“You told her about Sadie. That’s pretty unprecedented.”

“I don’t want to talk about my sister.” Lexa shirked away.

“My point exactly.” Clarke pulled her back and held her close. “All I’m saying is that you handled her like a pro and if I know my wife, which I like to think I do, it’s because she reminds you a lot of—”

“Don’t say it.”

“Yourself,” Clarke finished the thought. Lexa growled and angrily adjusted her pillow, fighting with the blankets in order to take her frustration out on something. “I love you, grumpy.” Clarke just laughed and kissed her head.

“Love you too,” Lexa mumbled and tried not to think too much. “Can we go to sleep now?”

“Only if you promise to have dirty dreams of me in my uniform carrying you down a ladder—”

“Go to sleep, Clarke!” Lexa giggled and broke. “You’re not funny!”

“Well alright.” Clarke kissed her again and tucked an arm around her waist. “Still love you though.”

  
  



	3. Chapter 3

“So, why don’t we start with the obvious questions? What’s your real name and where is your mom?” The social worker, Greg Schultz, crossed his legs and opened his laptop screen. He barely glanced at a fidgeting Wellesley who fiercely kept a hold on the little girl splayed in her lap.

“Wellesley is my name. It’s the name I chose for myself. It’s just a good a name as any—”

“Wellesley,” Clarke cleared her throat quietly and gave her a trying look. “The quicker we answer Brian’s questions, the quicker we can get you and your sister somewhere safe. This is just as much about Maddie too, remember?”

“Well it’s not going to be easy answering your questions because my mom isn’t around.” Wellesley sat straighter in the armchair and lifted a fussy Maddie, half-occupying the wide-eyed girl with one of Byron’s chew toys that had taken the little girl’s interest.

Brian nodded and quirked a small smile. He closed the laptop and placed it beside himself on the sofa. The hot cup of coffee was stirred and the predicament was pondered. Clarke and Lexa sat on the edge of their chairs holding each other’s hand, waiting for a revelation.

“You’ve been in the system before, right?” Brian asked rhetorically and leaned forward with an empathetic nod. “Is that why you don’t trust me?”

“Call me crazy but I don’t trust any man who wears a mismatched suit. You look like a used car salesman, Brian,” Wellesley sniped.

“Hey!” Lexa leaned forward with her pointer finger raised. “What did we talk about last night?” She scolded.

“Fine.” Wellesley rolled her eyes. “Sorry, Brian. Sure. You’ve got me all figured out.” She nodded sarcastically.

Brian didn’t seem offended. He leaned back and straightened his suit sleeve, looking Wellesley up and down curiously. He sighed and offered a concessionary nod.

“You a frequent flyer? Spend a lot of time in foster care, Wells?” He asked unflinchingly.

“Yeah, my whole life, Schultz.” Wellesley shrugged as if it were no big deal. “Except maybe this time it doesn’t have to go down the way it normally does?” Her eyes widened with hope. “There doesn’t have to be any police cars or emergency foster homes this time. I’ve got my shit together. I’ve got a place, and a job offer, and if I file for legal emancipation you can just tick your little boxes and—”

“Firstly, a proxy-emancipation would require your real name for a start.” Brian interrupted with a chuckle. “But unfortunately it also wouldn’t entitle you to be the legal guardian of your little sister, so there’s a lot of things we need to figure out here.” He grabbed his glasses out of his bag and opened his laptop screen again.

Lexa watched her wife reach over and squeeze Wellesley’s knee. She closed her eyes and knew what Clarke was thinking. It left her stewing in the realisation that if there was even the slither of an opportunity to be a hero — Clarke was going to dive head first into it and drag her along for the ride. She grinded her jaw and tried not to worry about it for now.

“So, tell me about your mom? What was her last fixed-address?” Brian peered over the screen.

“She gave birth and left me in a hospital when I was four-hours old with nothing but a shitty letter and a photograph, so forgive me if I don’t have a forwarding address, Brian.” Wellesley chewed the side of her cheek and threw a few pieces of paper from her pocket down on the coffee table.

Lexa clenched her eyes closed and shook her head. What an awful woman, she thought to herself. What kind of person just leaves their baby and runs off into the night? She couldn’t even begin to wrap her head around it. There were abandoned minor cases that she dealt with first hand back when she was in the E.R and they never really bothered her, not like this at least. Something about this felt personal in the worst way possible and she couldn’t place her finger on it.

“Wellesley,” Brian became quite serious and stern. “If your mother abandoned you when you were born, then how is Maddie your little sister?” He stared at the little girl in her lap shaking the dog’s toy. Wellesley froze up.

Lexa gasped and became wide-eyed.

“Tell me you didn’t steal a fucking baby, Wellesley!” Lexa bellowed and glared, furious beyond belief. Clarke tried to grab her hand and calm her down but the anger was visceral. “Jesus Christ! What the hell is wrong with you—”

“I didn’t steal her! She is my sister!” Wellesley snapped back, glaring between the pair of them. “We have… we have the same blood… we’re sisters...” She shook her head, snorting in disbelief as if she hadn’t just stuck her foot in it.

Brian gulped, and collectively, they all realised what a clusterfuck this had just become.

Brian began to speak, “Okay, if you guys will excuse me for a moment I need to call the Supervisor and get somebody over here—”

“Brian! Buddy! My homeboy! Come on!?” Wellesley shot up and blocked the door, rocking the now crying baby in her arms. “Please, I’m begging you. Just give me a chance to explain and work something out. I turned sixteen today. That has to count for something, right?” She became frantic.

“Wellesley, if you have ran away from child protective services and taken a baby with you that is serious—”

“Then why has nobody reported her missing, huh? You don’t think somebody would mention to the cops that their kid happened to vanish in the night?” Wellesley glared and stated the obvious. “I know what you’re thinking. I must just be a foster home tearaway and I took my baby foster-sister with me but it’s not like that!” She pleaded.

Clarke footed over to them and somehow managed to stay cool.

“Okay, everybody just take a breath,” she said, her hands gently prying Maddie out of Wellesley’s shaking arms. “I promise all I’m going to do is hold her, Wellesley,” she reassured softly and took Maddie into her arms. “You’re shaking like a leaf, kiddo. Why don’t we all just sit down and figure out what exactly is going on here?” She gestured to the sofa.

Brian hesitated and stood straighter.

“You’ve got ten minutes, and then I’m calling my supervisor and the police department.” He glared at the teenager.

Lexa allowed Clarke to palm the baby off into her lap while everybody calmed down and took their seats. Maddie fidgeted in her arms and became restless, her eyes fixed on Wellesley the entire time with the occasional whine for good measure.

“You better have a good excuse, young lady,” Lexa couldn’t help but admonish the sulking teenager who slumped back in the armchair with tears in her eyes.

“Can you not do that!” Clarke bit and shot Lexa a stern look. “You think the kid doesn’t already feel bad enough? Look at her for Christ’s sake! Shame on you both!” She snatched her stare between her wife and the social worker. “We’re supposed to be the adults. We’re supposed to be the ones who figure this out! Kids don’t just run off into the night and take babies with them for no reason! And you both want to sit here and chew her out without letting her speak? That’s hardly going to make her feel like she can trust authority figures. You want to make sure we don’t get answers? Well, you’re going the right way about it!” She folded her arms and stood strong.

It dawned on Lexa immediately what was happening. Clarke was playing the good cop vs. bad cop routine. A classic. She paused and watched Clarke shoot her a soft lift of the eyebrow, as if to say, ‘Go along with it, please?’

“Well I’m sorry if it makes me mad to see a young girl with so much potential throw her entire life away! You think they’ll go easy on her in court just because she had good intentions?” Lexa pretended to snipe back and played along a little too well.

Wellesley broke instantly.

“She’s mine, okay!” Wellesley snapped and began to sob. “I was with a foster family upstate and the old man was a real handsy fucker, but the place was always warm and I knew where my next meal was coming from! Then one thing leads to another and I’ve missed a few periods, the wife wises up and suddenly I’m out on my ass. No warm place to go. No food. No roof over my head. No money for an abortion.” Wellesley glared furiously, as if it was all of their faults.

Lexa felt herself grow sick. Clarke just stood there and turned pale.

Wellesley scoffed angrily and continued, “I had her and I knew I wasn’t her mom but I couldn’t just let her get passed from home to home her entire life like I did. The old man found me eventually, he said if I kept my mouth shut and stayed away he would give us a little money each month and it worked for a while… but the next thing I know he comes by last week and says his wife—the lying bitch—saw me lurking around the yard with Maddie and the money was off the table. That’s how I got the busted face, by the way.” Wellesley shot Lexa a look that could kill.

“I’m… I’m sorry…” Lexa felt the air leave her lungs. She glanced to Clarke for reassurance but her wife just stood there, repulsed, trying to absorb the information. “Wells, I honestly didn’t know,” Lexa turned back to the kid with a trying expression.

“It’s fine. What does it matter anyway?” Wellesley scoffed in disgust and wiped her tears.

“It does matter! **You** matter!” Lexa couldn’t help but raise her voice.

“Honey,” Clarke whispered and gestured for her to calm down with her hand.

“No, Clarke!” Lexa heaved and sat there, unsure of what to do. She looked at the social worker with a severe expression. “They’re staying here, both of them. I don’t care what it takes or costs you’re going to get that dirty pervert, and the kids will stay with us until it gets figured out. Tell him, Clarke.” Lexa shot her wife a look.

Clarke inhaled and nodded in agreement.

“Can we make it work?” Clarke peered at Brian who still hadn’t uttered a word. He adjusted his glasses and wiped the sweat from his forehead, mumbling and considering it. “Dude!” She snapped her fingers.

“Sorry,” he cleared his throat and shook his head. “It’s just, if what you’re saying is true, Wellesley, you’re alleging your previous foster carers are still claiming federal benefits for—”

“So help me god if you finish that sentence you’re going to need the police here quicker than you think you do,” Lexa muttered and clung to the fussy baby in her lap busy playing with the papers on the coffee table, which was the only thing stopping Lexa from fly kicking him in the chin already. “Do you not think the sexual abuse of a minor might be the slightly more pressing issue, Brian?” she bit harder.

“Yes! Oh god! Of course! Wellesley, I am so sorry.” He shook his head and leaned forward, guilty and blithering. “I’m sorry. It’s just, I wasn’t expecting you to say anything you just said. What has happened to you is awful but…”

“But fucking what?” Wellesley glared and looked between the adults in the room. “I’m sixteen, I can emancipate myself, I’ve got a place to stay and since you now know that Maddie is technically my daughter what could possible be the but?! If that wasn’t enough the lesbian twins said we could crash here too! I’m really not seeing any _buts_ here, Schultz!”

“You’re both minors, Wellesley. There isn’t an option where you just sign a piece of paper and I let you run out the door with Maddie. We have to go to the police, to child protective services, and I’m afraid in the meantime you both have to go into emergency foster-care until we can figure this out.”

“You have to be kidding me!” Clarke threw her arms in the air. “No way! There is no way the kids are leaving this house!”

Lexa sat in silence and briefly glanced at the papers Maddie was fisting up and messing with on the coffee table. The little girl caught the corner of a photograph and waved it around, sticking it in her mouth to chew on the corner for good measure.

Brian continued, “In cases like this the rules are very clear, the children have to be with either registered foster carers or their relatives. If I could bend the rules please believe me that I would do it…”

Lexa gently tugged the photograph out of Maddie’s clenched fist and couldn’t quite believe what she was looking at. It took her breath away and left her beyond confused. She felt the blood begin to rush around her head and her lungs grow tight around each breath as she bounced the whining baby in her lap and stared at the photo.

“Wellesley where did you get this picture?” Lexa managed to get the words out. She shot the teenager a look and help up the tattered photograph of a woman in her early-twenties with long light brown hair and huge green eyes.

“That’s my birth mom.” Wellesley wiped her tears on her sleeves and tried to snatch the picture from Lexa’s hand. Lexa pulled her arm back and refused to hand it over. “What are you doing?!” Wellesley screwed up her face and reached for it again.

“Tell me the truth.” Lexa stared and felt her heart punch into her ribcage. “Where the hell did you get this photograph, Wells? I won’t be mad. I promise you I won’t be mad. Just tell me the truth—”

“That is my birth mother! That is the only picture I have of her so can you please give it back!” Wellesley sniffed back her tears.

“This can’t be a picture of your birth mother.” Lexa shook her head and felt her heart refuse to believe it.

“What are you talking about?” Wellesley balked in equal confusion.

“Because it’s a picture of my sister, Wellesley!” Lexa finally handed it back to the teenager. “Sadie Elizabeth Woods, that’s the woman in the photograph!”

Clarke craned over and became wide-eyed and equally shocked. She blinked and did a double take, narrowing her eyes for good measure.

“Holy shit,” Clarke muttered and glanced at the social worker. “I know this seems far-fetched but they’re telling the truth. That’s Lexa’s sister.”

“Do you have contact information for Ms Woods?” He asked and began to type the name into his keyboard.

“No, I’m her next of kin. She died March 27th 2016. I have the death certificate upstairs somewhere and some photographs,” Lexa mumbled and handed Maddie to Clarke. She ran her hands through her hair and suddenly realised something. “You said your birthday is today right? You were born December 27th 2003?” Lexa shot Wellesley a glance.

“Yeah, I’m sure Inspector Gadget can find me on the system. I was registered as April Doe at birth. That was the name my birth mother wrote on the letter she left me,” Wellesley explained. 

Lexa closed her eyes and nodded.

“My mother’s name was April.” Lexa chewed the inside of her cheek and leaned back into the sofa. She glanced at a shocked and silent Clarke who was rocking the tiny baby who was apparently Sadie’s granddaughter. “Christmas of 2003 was the last one we had with my mom before she died. That was the year Sadie supposedly went travelling around Europe for five months and couldn’t make it home until the day after New Year’s. She told us it was because her flight got cancelled last minute.” Lexa sighed as the pieces began to fit into place. “Mom threw a fit over it.”

Wellesley narrowed her eyes. “My mom abandoned me two days after Christmas and went back to her happy life like I never existed?!”

“She died of early-onset Huntington’s Disease, Wellesley, it was hardly a happy life!” Lexa scoffed and rubbed her forehead. She immediately felt guilty as the teenager’s bottom lip started to wobble. “This is a lot. I’m sorry, I don’t mean to brush you off. I know I’m being a dick, I’m sorry,” Lexa mumbled and looked to her wife for encouragement.

“Brian why don’t you come with me and we can go and get Sadie’s paperwork and the photographs. Lexa is Sadie’s next of kin, so why don’t we go from there and figure out how to keep the girls here together?” Clarke suggested softly. She squeezed Lexa’s hand and jostled the baby on to her other hip.

“There isn’t much precedence for this,” Brian scratched his head and stood from the sofa.

“No, I know that,” Clarke reassured and somehow remained the force of calm. “But I’m sure we can agree that we all have to do what’s best for Wellesley and Maddie, right? They’re the people we need to put first in all of this.” She shot Wellesley a reassuring look.

“You lead the way, I’ll take the paperwork back to my supervisor and they can stay here in the meantime while we figure this out. We’ll have to file emergency forms and get you temporary custody, that is if you’re sure you want to do this?” Brian looked between Lexa and Clarke seriously.

“We’re serious, we’re keeping them. We’ll go shopping later and get everything we need to get them started here.” Clarke didn’t even blink. “Come on, you’ll have to hold the little one while I rummage through the attic but I think we should give these two some time to talk.” She sighed and squeezed her wife’s shoulder.

Lexa sat in silence as Clarke left the room with the social worker in tow. She exhaled a shaky breath and couldn’t bring herself to look at the pages of letters in front of her on the coffee table, too frightened of what she might read. It simultaneously made sense and yet was still farcical in her mind. Sadie would never abandon a baby, she was the most maternal person Lexa knew. When mom died, Sadie took over as the family matriarch like it was a second calling.

“That was a great sell,” Wellesley whispered and shook her head in disbelief. “I can’t believe you would pretend my birth mother is your sister just to help me out. I didn’t put you down as the bleeding heart type but it means a lot, as soon as I’m on my feet and everything is figured out I’ll pay you back. I promise.”

Lexa craned her neck and stared at the teenager with a horrified expression.

“What are you talking about, Wellesley?”

“You know, pretending that your mom’s name was April and that the picture of my birth mom is your sister so I don’t have to go back into foster care. It was a real bro move.” Wellesley chuckled and rubbed her red cheeks. “It’s the nicest thing anyone’s actually done for me, ever.”

“Do you think I’m kidding?” Lexa furrowed her brow. “The woman in that picture is my sister, Wellesley. I hate to break it to you but apparently you’re are indeed my niece.” She rubbed her temples and wished for a hard drink.

Wellesley suddenly grew stiff and horrified.

“My birth mother is really your sister? But you said.” Wellesley paused and inhaled a breath too big for her lungs. “You said she died of Huntington’s Disease, right? Like your mom?”

“Mhm. I did say that.” Lexa nodded her head and knew what would come next.

“Isn’t that hereditary? As in me and Maddie might both have it?” Wellesley grew panicked and wide-eyed. “I didn’t not-abort a baby for you to tell me on my birthday that we might both have your shitty family genetics and die anyway!”

“We’ll figure it out,” Lexa said calmly and tried to remember what it was like to be a doctor dishing out bad news in waiting rooms. “It all seems like a lot now but you might not have it, neither of you might have it. I mean, I don’t have it?” she reminded.

“No way, lady!” Wellesley shook her head. “I preferred it when I thought my mom was a drug-addicted prostitute who terfed me out because she couldn’t afford me. I’m getting my sister and we’re—”

“You mean your daughter, right?” Lexa raised her brows and became furious for no good reason. “All this hurt you feel over Sadie? Imagine how Maddie is going to feel twenty years from now when she finds out you robbed her of the right to a mother,” she scoffed.

“She’s my sister!” Wellesley shoved herself forward and stared into Lexa’s eyes. “I don’t expect you to understand it, what with the whole holier-than-thou attitude thing you’ve got going on, but I have dreams and aspirations too. Moms who give birth before their fifteenth birthday aren’t renowned for going to college! Or do I not have a right to my life anymore? Is my job just to be his dick receptacle and a pretend-mom to a kid who deserves way better than what I can offer up?” Wellesley’s chest shook. “And for the record, I didn’t abandon Maddie the way your cunt of a sister—”

“Don’t you ever use that word in my house!” Lexa balked and shot up from her seat. “You’re right, and I misspoke! I feel like shit because of it! I’m putting my own mommy-issues on you and I’m sorry that I’m not Sandra Bullock or blonde-bangs and white wine Hallmark quotes! But don’t you ever call Sadie that word.” Lexa hissed and pointed her finger. “I don’t know what the hell happened back then and if I could kick the answers out of her lily-white ass you can believe I would! But our mom was dying, she was already a freakin’ ghost.” 

Lexa hung her head and tried not to remember the rageful shaking creature who couldn’t remember her own name on her worst days. It was as if their mother died long before her body got the message, and truth be told, that was the most frightening part. Maybe that’s why Sadie gave up her baby, maybe at least. It still wasn’t a good excuse.

Lexa sighed and softened slightly, “I don’t know why Sadie did what she did. It might not be what you want to hear but she really was the best woman I ever knew. I’m sorry you were the one thing she fucked up in her life.”

“Yeah, she really sounds amazing,” Wellesley replied bitterly with tears in her eyes.

“This must be a pretty shitty birthday, huh?” Lexa sighed guiltily and slumped back down.

“Well one more of you guys and I’ll have the ghosts of Christmas lesbians past, present, and future. I would have rather got a bike if we’re being perfectly honest.”

Lexa laughed at that, mainly because she couldn’t help but think it was something Sadie would have said. She pushed the urge to mention it down and swallowed, nodding in agreement. The kid didn’t look much like Sadie. Wellesley had jet black hair and a wider-set jaw, but there was faint traces of her mother there if Lexa looked hard enough, they shared the same big green eyes and bushy eyebrows. It made her miss her sister harder than she had done for a long time.

“My dad, your grandpa, he’s still alive you know. Anya too. There’s a little of her left in the world if ever you want to know who she was—”

“If this is you trying to extend an olive branch, I’m okay for the good old times stories. There is one thing you can do for me though.” Wellesley shuffled awkwardly, as if she wasn’t used to asking for favours.

“Name it,” Lexa agreed, determined to make a better effort.

“I want to hear you say that Maddie is my sister so I know that we’re clear.” She nodded her head and thought about it. “And I want to blow out birthday candles and feel like I’ve got a family, even if it’s just for one night. I don’t mind if nothing comes out of this but it would be nice to have one birthday…”

Lexa crashed into her with a hug and tried her hardest not to cry. Her arms grew tight around the bag of bones sat on her sofa until the kid was spluttering and unsure of what to do. Lexa rested her chin on Wellesley’s head and grinded her jaw, gulping back the fire in her throat.

“I’m sorry I was such a dick,” Lexa got the words out, barely. “You’re just a kid and I’m supposed to be the adult, and I was a mega-prick and you didn’t deserve it.”

“Dude, it’s fine. You get one free asshole pass, don’t sweat it.” Wellesley rubbed her back awkwardly.

“What cake do you and your sister like?” Lexa finally muttered and rubbed the back of her neck as she pulled away. “I’m not going to be good at this, not by a long shot, but you matter to me so this is it for you, kid. This is the last stop.”

Clarke suddenly appeared at the door with a grin and a piece of paper in her hands. Brian trailed in with Maddie in his arms, his suit dishevelled and dribbled on.

“Lexa isn’t wrong,” Clarke beamed and tossed the paperwork over. “It looks like you got a stay of execution, kiddo. You and your sister are staying put.”

“You see!” Wellesley laughed and gestured towards Clarke. “You see how she doesn’t even push the sister-issue! She’s so the cool one!”

“Yeah, yeah.” Lexa nodded and walked over to her wife and pressed a kiss on her cheek. “The coolest, the greatest, the very best of the best.” She hugged her tight.

“I love you,” Clarke whispered into her neck quietly.

“I love you too,” Lexa whispered shakily and closed her eyes into Clarke’s blonde hair. “Thank you for doing this.”

“Have you called Anya?”

“Shit!” Lexa balked and pulled away, horrified. “Oh god, I’m going to have to try and explain this to Anya?!”

“Don’t sweat it,” Clarke kissed her again and reached for her car-keys. “I’ve got to get a baby seat for the car anyway. I may as well drop by on my way home and give her the good news.”

“See!” Wellesley gestured with her hand and nodded empathically. “Way cooler than you, dude."

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, as some of you will know a special someone has been spurring me on to write more with the nasty comments she has littered all over my works so you can be sure to thank her for the fast updates! I want to be explicitly clear, **please do not send this person hate.** If you want to show your support for my work, go and figure out who I'm talking about and show her story some love and maybe thank her for encouraging me to churn out work I'm proud of! She's either a child or a very deeply troubled person, and we should set a better example and show her how good it can be when women support other women. I really mean it, please go and show this individual some love!
> 
> (That's not to say I didn't run my mouth because you know your girl is out here on her bullshit 24/7 laying the smackdown, so don't think I'm playing the angel by any means.)

The dining table was set with nibbles and birthday accoutrements. The ceiling was strung with bunting and sweet sixteen signs hung from the walls. It wasn’t much, but Lexa was honest to her word. She even busied herself wrangling with a snapping Byron to fix a jaunty bow tie to the scruff of his neck in an effort to make this as perfect as it could be. 

It was also a half-decent distraction from processing that Sadie, the saintly sister who never put a foot wrong, had the gaul not to mention she abandoned a baby before she died. In her most selfish thoughts, Lexa took it as a personal insult that Sadie didn’t trust her with the information. It left her stewing with indignation that she had naively believed for thirty years of living that they never kept secrets from one another. Apparently, she was mistaken in the worst way possible. There must be a damn good reason for it though, Lexa clung to that thought as hard as she could.

“Lex?” Anya barrelled through the front door and slammed it shut. “You couldn’t pick up your phone? I had to come all the way over here to talk to you?” She shouted as she stomped down the hallway towards the kitchen.

Back when they were kids, when arguments came to a boil and barbie dolls began to fly like grenades, she would hide under the kitchen sink until Sadie came and softly knocked on the door to let her know Anya had stormed out in to the yard to cool off. The desire to make herself small enough to fit inside the cupboards once more for old time’s sake swelled in her throat the minute she set eyes on her furious sister.

“Well hello to you too,” Lexa swallowed as Anya halted in the doorway with a tightly wound look on her face.

Anya paused and glanced around at the empty kitchen and living space. The place was silent, save for a yapping Byron who jumped up and danced on his hind legs for attention from his favourite visitor. Anya didn’t so much as look at him, it was an unsettling sight.

“Where are the kids?” She got straight to the point.

“Clarke took them out to get some stuff they need. They’re going to be here a while and it gave me a little time to set everything up for tonight—”

“Of course Sadie would do this to us!” Anya scoffed and shook her head in absolute exasperation. “And of course you would be stupid enough to clean up her mess without a question, Lexa!”

“What the hell are you talking about?!” Lexa screwed up her face.

Anya sighed and looked at Lexa as if she were the biggest idiot in the world. She walked forward and pulled out a chair at the breakfast table, plonking herself down and crossing her arms, displeased.

“You manage to be angry at everything in the entire world except Sadie, do you know that?” Anya raised a brow at her little sister. “You always pretend like she was this perfect angel who never did anything wrong but this kind of shady shit has Sadie written all over it! And I just need us to be mad at her for five minutes before we play happy family with the kid who’s life she destroyed. Is that really so much to ask?”

Lexa felt her guts begin to swell with anger and indignation, and she immediately became self-aware that it was all directed at the wrong sister. She should be furious with Sadie, she knew that, logically. Instead she stood there and felt the urge to snap back at Anya become palpable. Lexa turned around and ignored her, fiddling with the icing piper that she had been frosting the cake with right up until Hurricane Anya blew through. 

“Sit,” Anya ordered and pointed to the chair opposite her.

Lexa hesitated and stared at her sister.

“I just can’t believe you think I’m not angry with Sadie!” she bursted in angry disbelief and slumped herself down.

“Are you? Are you really angry, Lexa? Because opening your doors and throwing a birthday party for the kid our older sister abandoned without a second thought doesn’t seem it to me!” She chewed and glared. “You always let Sadie get away this shit!”

“So what am I supposed to do, huh? Terf Wellesley out and let her forage the streets with her baby daughter—who we all now have to pretend is her sister—which only gets all the more convoluted when I have to say it aloud!” Lexa struggled and threw her hands in the air, exasperated.

“I’m not saying that.” Anya huffed and rubbed her headache. “I’m just saying that you never acknowledge that Sadie was a deeply, deeply faulted human being. Do you not remember the time Clarke’s watch mysteriously went missing after Easter brunch?”

“Don’t you dare accuse her of that.”

“Or the time she showed up at your job tweaked out asking your boss for prescription pills!” Anya levelled a stare.

“She wasn’t tweaked out! She had Hunting—”

“Huntington’s Disease, I know.” Anya rolled her eyes and took the words out of Lexa’s mouth. “That’s your go to excuse for all things Sadie-related. She had Huntington’s. She was sick. She was just symptomatic. Except maybe that’s exactly who she was, Lexa. A narcissist who never thought about anyone but herself!”

Lexa slammed her fist on the breakfast table hard enough to make it jump. It stalled Anya, left her wide-eyed and quiet. Lexa leaned forward with gritted teeth and all of her emotional scars on show.

“Mom died and you went off to a fucking battlefield, Anya. I got married and you were too busy doing a security contract to come to our wedding. A baby showed up on my doorstep three days ago and you said it to me yourself, ‘You’re on your own this time! _’_ ” Lexa seethed and blinked away tears. “Sadie was always there. She always had my back. It was you who never thought about anyone but yourself, not her.” Lexa shook her head and leaned back into her chair.

Anya sat there and knew it was true. She blinked a few times and glanced at her hands, twiddling them in her lap guiltily. She opened her mouth and closed it again, unsure of what to say.

Lexa took a small victory at the sight of it.

“Fuck you, Anya,” Lexa said quietly and blinked away tears. “Fuck you a hundred times.”

Anya sighed and peered up at her sister solemnly. “I got you Clarke’s watch back from the chop shop, didn’t I? And I gave you mom’s wedding ring as a gift when I got home. Damn I loved that ring.” Her voice began to clench and grow quiet, her eyes shifting back down to her hands. “And I’m here now, in the kitchen with you, trying to figure out how it is that we have nieces we never knew about. I’m not saying that I’m batting a thousand but I always loved you the most, Lexa. I thank God everyday that it was Sadie and not you.”

“That’s an awful thing to say,” Lexa sniped and struggled to stay mad.

“I know,” Anya agreed with a brief nod. “Don’t get me wrong I loved Sadie, but she was ten years older than you and she was always going to be the one you adored through rose-tinted glasses. I’m just saying I loved you the most and it’s okay that I wasn’t your favourite sister, just please let me sit here and be mad with you that Sadie did this. That’s all I’m asking for,” Anya tried.

Lexa nodded and allowed herself to think about it, which opened the floodgates of just how mad she really was. “I keep thinking about every big secret I ever told her, and how she could have told me at any point that she had a daughter. It feels spiteful,” Lexa said with a grind of her jaw.

“If she had brought the baby home I wouldn’t have left you guys for the military. I really wouldn’t have done that,” Anya commiserated with a shake of her head. “I keep trying to piece together how she threw out a baby like it was a fucking overripe avocado and my mind won’t stretch around it.”

“Right?” Lexa winced and nodded her head. “I don’t know how I’m supposed to have the Huntington’s talk with Wellesley, and I don’t know how I’m supposed to watch a baby grow up knowing that she might have the gene too. That’s what I’m fucked up over. How did Sadie not think to mention it in her letter?”

“Sadie left a letter?” Anya snapped her eyes up in surprise.

“Oh yeah!” Lexa nodded her head in emphatic exasperation. “She Dear John’d the shit out of that kid. I can’t bring myself to read it yet, I’m waiting for Wellesley to offer. It’s her letter after all.”

“One of us is going to have to call Dad.” Anya grimmanced and rubbed her forehead.

“I can’t do it to him, Anya.”

“Neither can I.”

They sat there and huffed simultaneously, aware that their dad might not survive it. Sadie was always his golden girl. Losing mom was one thing, but when Sadie died it ripped a hole in his heart that apparently only a new wife and step-children could fix. It was as if the grief was too big for him to exist with, and so he made himself a completely new life instead with a fishing boat to boot. The funny thing was that he’d never fished a single day in his life before Sadie died. Anya often got herself stuck on that weird facet of his grief.

“I guess all of this throws a spanner in the works for you going back to school at thirty like Erin Brockovich.” Anya smirked and changed the subject. “Maybe you and Wellesley can go to college together in a few years. It’ll be your bonding thing.”

“Hilarious.” Lexa rolled her eyes. “I might not go back to school at all. I’m still figuring things out. I might teach instead.”

“You loved being a doctor,” Anya reminded.

“Things change.” Lexa shrugged and prayed that Anya wouldn’t continue prodding that barely healed wound. “I changed.”

Anya fixed a serious expression and got up from the breakfast table. She headed straight to the top kitchen cabinet and pulled out the bottle of whiskey that lived up there. Two glasses were fetched, the bottle was opened, and at least a third of the contents were poured between the two cups.

“That isn’t a drink, that’s attempted-manslaughter!” Lexa balked as her sister put down the half-filled tumbler of whiskey in front of her.

“Speaking of attempted-manslaughter, you were found not guilty of negligence by the medical council if you remember correctly?” Anya knocked back a sip of whiskey with a wince. “Seems like a pretty good reason to return to work and carry on living your life, if you ask me.” She lifted her brows.

Lexa felt her blood run cold.

“Oh come on, it’s fine!” Anya shot her a look as she glugged another sip. “Lexa, Sadie asked us to help her go to sleep and you came through for her when she needed you the most. It was either the shot of adrenalin or I was going to put a pillow over her face and honestly, she got the gentler farewell of the two. They never could prove you were the one who gave it to her.”

“I’m only going to say this to you once so that I know we’re both clear,” Lexa lowered her voice and ran her finger over the rim of her glass. “Dad and Clarke do not know what happened and I intend on keeping it that way, so I don’t want to hear you breathe another word of what we did for Sadie. I have to live with the fact I broke my Hippocratic oath and it’s a price I pay everyday, so please don’t act like we got away with murder.”

“I mean… technically…” Anya puffed out her cheeks and bulged her eyes, as if to state the obvious.

“Shut up, Anya.” Lexa knocked back the drink and felt it burn her throat.

“Tell me you’re not glad we did it for her.” Anya refused to let it go. “Did you really want to take that trip down memory lane and let her go the same way mom did?”

“Of course I didn’t,” Lexa replied harshly.

In her deepest private thoughts, Lexa knew she made the right call. It was a fact she never doubted. Sadie was getting worse and they all knew how it would play out, that the drugs would only help so much before she went the same way as their mother. The thing she felt most guilty about was that there was no fanfare or grand goodbye, that there was no meaningful conversations shared in the moments before she passed. Sadie was propped up in her bed, stiff arms jutting outwards and shaking like two branches in a storm which made it difficult for Lexa to find a vein. Anya sat on the edge of the bed and told Sadie she looked like a flopping fish, which made Sadie laugh so hard that the task of finding a vein became all the more difficult. Once the vein was tapped, they all held hands tightly and Sadie thanked them both and just drifted to sleep. 

Well, she actually had a massive heart attack and died instantly. But Lexa spared Anya that detail as they climbed out of the hospice window and ran back towards the car under the cover of moonlight. It wasn’t the time for semantics.

Anya sighed and almost read her sister’s mind. “I still think you should have let me suffocate her. We really screwed the pooch getting the adrenalin from that veterinarian’s office, not to be too literal.”

Lexa couldn’t help but snort a laugh that left whiskey dribbling down her chin and sweater. Anya chuckled too and leaned for the dish rag jung over the oven handle, tossing it across to her sister.

“See,” Anya hummed and smiled. “It’s not all bad.”

“I mean who wouldn’t kill their terminally ill sister with off-brand adrenalin designed for horses?” Lexa simpered with a chuckle, a little guilty over the catharsis she felt for finally talking about it.

“Not us, not this family.” Anya shook her head self-righteously. “If the day comes where we find out that I too bear the family curse, you better shoot me up with LSD and float my ass out into the aether.”

“You really should get tested,” Lexa reminded with a furrow of her brow. She’d long since gave up trying to convince her sister to do the sensible thing.

“Now where the hell would be the fun in that? I either find out I’m going to die early or I’m burdened with the knowledge that I have to actually make something of my life. Either way it’s a lose-lose.”

“You’re a war hero, that must score you some meaningful-life points.”

“I wouldn’t go that far. I was logistics, I just made sure the toothpaste and rations got to where they were going on time.”

“Never heard you tell a drunk girl in a bar that version of events.” Lexa stood up and checked the three texts from Clarke on her phone. “We’ve got about an hour and a half before they get back here, go and put a blouse on and come get drunk with me while we frost cupcakes.”

“Frost cupcakes?” Anya winced. “I figured I could be the cool aunt who just drinks and hands out twenty-dollar bills? Maybe not rat her out when I catch her smoking pot out of her bedroom window?”

“You’re not Aunt Carol, give up the dream and go put your big girl blouse on.” Lexa pointed to the door and grabbed her frosting piper.

Anya sulked off and did as instructed, reappearing ten minutes later in a white silk blouse tucked into her jeans. She’d replaced her scruffy boots with a pair of heels from Clarke’s wardrobe and managed to get a brush through her boisterous hair too. Lexa took it as a sign that Anya was going to make a real effort with the girls and try to make it work instead of pulling her usual disappearing act, which was a refreshing change given her track record.

By the time the cupcakes were frosted and laid out on the table, and the pizza pockets were cooked into parcels of molten-magma, the whiskey had been drank in alternating shots until they were red-eyed and giggling over the fact perfect Sadie—whom they had euthanized with horse adrenaline, at her bequest no less—managed to give birth to a secret baby without mom or dad finding out. 

It had them both grumbling and reminding each other of all the minor-infractions they had been caught red-handed and punished for when this was by far the worst lie any of the sisters had pulled. Even worse than the time Anya accidentally knocked over grandma’s ashes and topped the urn up with dust from the vacuum cleaner so Dad wouldn’t suspect anything, which up until three days ago was number-one on the list of shitty things they had managed to get away with. Well, excluding killing Sadie, of course.

“What did you get Wellesley for her birthday, anyway?” Lexa inquired and dipped a carrot stick in the hummus sat on the dining table. She sat down and swung her feet up on to the adjacent seat, breathing a sigh of relief now everything was finished.

“I would slap that out of your hand and tell you to stop eating the kids snacks, but who puts out carrot sticks and hummus at a birthday party anyway?” Anya shook her head in mock-repulsion and sat down too. “Also, was I supposed to get birthday presents? I mean you usually handle getting presents for people on my behalf and I just give you the money…”

“Did you not think I might be too busy homing our dead sister’s children you fuck!” Lexa lurched up and punched her sister in the arm, suddenly sober and panicked. “Go, get in your car right now, you need to drive to Target and pick something before they get here.” She bristled and rubbed her temples, because of course something would have to go wrong.

“Are you insane Alexandra?! My shit is rocked right now!” Anya nodded to the whiskey bottle and full-named her sister for good measure too.

“There’s the gas station two blocks away.” Lexa grabbed a coat and thrusted it towards her sister. “Go, figure it out!” she said sternly.

“Because nothing says ‘Sorry our sister abandoned you at birth but you’re a part of this family, kiddo!’ like a bag of Caramel Bugles, right?” Anya shot back sarcastically and put on the coat.

“Well do you have any better ideas?” Lexa became stuck.

Anya paused and thought about it.

“Well if you want her to really feel a part of the family, we could always give a her a homemade coupon for one free mercy-killing should she ever need it?” Anya murmured.

“Out!” Lexa burst and shovelled her sister out of the dining room chair. “Go and get your niece a damn birthday present!”

“Fine,” Anya sulked out of the door and zipped up her jacket. “Tell Clarke I’ll pick up another bottle of Jack. We can play Never-Have-I-Ever once the kids are in bed!” she teased from the hallway. Lexa just closed her eyes and exhaled through her nose as the front door opened and closed again.

Twenty minutes passed before a car finally pulled up the driveway. Twenty minutes was all it took for Lexa to plow through most of the carrot sticks and half a tub of hummus. She brushed her hands on her trousers and rushed to the door, inhaling a deep sobering breath as she dodged the hobbling dog darting between her legs.

“Hey guys!” Lexa swung the front door open and felt the chill immediately hit her warm cheeks. She tucked her hands under her armpits and skipped down the steps towards the loaded car.

“Hey!” Clarke peeked around the popped trunk with shopping bags in either hand. “I could have sworn I drove past Anya?” She blinked and pecked Lexa’s lips.

“Mmhm, I’ll tell you later.” Lexa chuckled and leaned forward to kiss her wife again.

Clarke giggled and kept ahold of the shopping bags while Lexa slung her arms around the back of her neck, their bodies pressing together like two penguins huddling for warmth. She kissed Clarke softly and cupped her warm cheeks for leverage, her fingers tucking around the back of each pinkened ear.

“You taste of whiskey,” Clarke murmured into her mouth.

“Things got busy and chaotic.” Lexa sighed and pulled her face away, appraising her pretty wife with a tight smile.

“Did you save some for me?”

“You’re my favourite drinking partner, aren’t you?” Lexa replied instantly with a smirk. “Anya will be back any minute. Thank you for handling her earlier by the way, I really don’t know what I would do without you.”

“Nah, it’s me who would be lost without you.” Clarke handed off some of the bags and popped the trunk close. “I had a good talk with Wellesley over milkshakes after we stuck Maddie in the ballpit. She’s a smart kid.”

“Like her mother,” Lexa laughed and walked slowly with her wife to the front door.

“I mean, I didn’t say anything but the way she furrows her brow together when she’s thinking hard about something?”

“Totally Sadie. I know, I saw it too,” Lexa agreed and pushed out a sigh. “I think I’ve spoke more about Sadie today than I have since she’s been gone. I guess I’m going to have to get used to talking about her again, huh?” The thought occurred to her.

“Baby steps.” Clarke kissed her wife’s tense jawline. “I know that we only have them for a few months at best with this temporary order, but I just want you to know I wouldn’t be opposed to making this more long term. I like your nieces, and not in the way I say I like your dad but we both know I don’t really mean it.”

“Oh, you mean you don’t care for the man who calls you Claire every time we visit or tells everyone your a police officer?” Lexa feigned surprise. “I can’t imagine why.”

“Okay, I know that was one of my worse white lies,” Clarke chuckled and kicked the front door shut behind them. “But I do like them, Lexa. I liked holding little Maddie in my arms and talking to Wellesley about teenager stuff. Things feel like they could be good, you know?”

“I know,” Lexa agreed quietly and dropped the bags in the hallway. She stood up and softly patted her wife’s pink cheek, tucking a rope of blonde hair behind her ear while she was at it. “Have I told you lately how cute you look when you don’t cover your little mole up with concealer?” She glanced at the mark above her wife’s mouth with a wry smile.

“I know you like it. You talked about it in your wedding vows, Lexa.”

“My home is wherever that mole is. I’ll follow it like the northern star, I swear to god.” Lexa cracked a smirk when she earned a chuckle. “Whenever I look at it I can’t help but remember the mucky little firefighter who ended up in my emergency room—”

“Oh here you go with the story!” Clarke teased and pulled at her wife’s waist.

“Claire! It’s a great story!” They both laughed into each other’s lips.

The sound of clattering upstairs had them both looking up towards the ceiling. Wellesley appeared at the top of the stairs with Maddie in her arms and jogged down the steps two at a time.

“Careful with the tiny human,” Lexa warned and earned a wry smile from the teenager.

“Sorry, was just putting the bags in our rooms. I think Mads will be fine in the twin bed for one more night until you guys can put up the crib.”

“You go on ahead and settle in kid, like your aunt said, this is the last stop for you guys until you decide what you want to do.” Clarke squeezed Wellesley’s arm and beamed at her.

Wellesley looked at Lexa with an awkward smile, inhaling a deep breath through her nose as she did. “Sorry,” she muttered and furrowed her brow, becoming too much like her mother. “I’ve just never had an aunt before. This is going to take some getting used to.”

“Me too,” Lexa said. “I was thinking earlier about how we enroll you in school. I’m guessing you must have missed a grade what with having to take care of Maddie?” She mused as they all traipsed towards the living room to sit down.

“Nah,” Wellesley shook her head. “I took online classes and now I’m a year ahead when you add up all my credits. I was hoping if I got a good enough GPA I might apply for a scholarship or something, one day at least.”

“Told you she was a smart cookie.” Clarke glanced at her wife with an impressed look. She peered back at the teenager. “You know, Lexa was clever and finished school early too when she was your age. It must run in the gene pool.”

“You mean besides terminal illnesses? That’s comforting,” Wellesley said, plonking herself down.

“Neurological diseases and smart brains, I see the irony.” Lexa chuckled and took the armchair. 

She tapped her knee and Byron hopped up in her lap. Maddie’s eyes snapped up to the scruffy mutt and she began to crawl hell to leather towards him over the rug. 

“Okay, alright,” Lexa whispered down to the little girl and lifted her up to sit in her lap as well. “We have to pet him very gently though,” she guided a chubby little hand over his fur. Byron whined in approval and stuck his tongue out.

“I guessed as much, I mean you must have been smart to get into medical school?” Wellesley glanced at Lexa. “I thought about medicine. I think I’d be good at it.”

“Well, we’ll get you enrolled in high school and I can help you if you’re thinking about pursuing med school after college? We can check out scholarship programmes and see if you’re eligible for any?” Lexa suggested and suddenly felt very useful.

“Holy shit.” Wellesley stopped in her tracks and suddenly noticed the decorated living room and dining table. Her eyes darted from the banners to the bunting, then back to the neatly laid table. All the hard work became instantly worth it, Lexa realised. “You… you could have just got me a cake to blow out?”

Clarke barrelled into the side of her with a hug until they were a laughing pile of flannel on the long sofa. “We don’t do things half-assed in the Griffin-Woods’ household, Wells! Do you like it?!”

“Nobody has ever been this nice to me before.” Wellesley laughed from underneath Clarke’s piling hug. Her pink-cheeked face emerged from underneath the firefighter’s armpit and she locked eyes with Lexa. “Honestly, thank you for everything. You’re a really good person,” she muttered, embarrassed and surprised by the gesture.

“Thanks,” Lexa quirked a smile. She glanced down at the baby in her arms who was giggling and trying to grab the dog’s tongue. “What do you think, Maddie? You want to hurry up and throw this birthday party for your sister?”

“I know I do!” Anya appeared at the living room door, huffing out of breath and without any visible signs of a birthday present. “You must be Wellesley!” She set her eyes on the teenager.

“You must be Anya,” Wellesley mumbled and stood up from the sofa. “Are you a hugger? Do we hug?” She stepped towards her.

Anya stood there, dumbfounded. It was as if she were staring at a ghost. It was as if something snapped inside of her and she was suddenly made to realise just how much she really did miss Sadie too. Lexa watched her sister’s throat quiver and her mind refuse to wrap itself around the little piece of their eldest-sister stood in the living room.

“You have her eyes,” Anya whispered to herself and blinked.

“Is it okay if we give it a little while before we talk about Sadie?” Wellesley fiddled with her hands and became visibly uncomfortable with the comparison.

Anya pushed herself forward and slung her arms around the teenager as if her body needed to make up for sixteen years worth of hugs in sixteen seconds. Lexa and Clarke looked at one another in surprise, Anya was definitely not the hugging sort.

“I mean my mom, our mom.” Anya refused to let her go and stared at Lexa over the teenager’s shoulder. “You have your Grandma April’s eyes.”

Lexa nodded in agreement at her shocked sister.

“Wow, you really are a hugger,” Wellesley murmured, still crushed in Anya’s arms. “I guess today must have been the weirdest day of your life too, right?” She asked Anya.

“Kid, you have no idea!” They both laughed.

Anya let the girl go and dug her hands in her coat pockets, producing a half-folded purple envelope. “Is it time for presents yet? I brought you a little something for your birthday. I don’t know how much Lexa has told you about me but I’m not the best at gifts…”

Wellesley tore the envelope open and pulled out a thick card. She sat back down on the sofa to open it, which promptly caused five one-hundred dollar bills to slip out into her lap. Lexa stared and realised after looking at the front of the card that her sister had bought a deepest condolences card with a picture of a crying angel on the front.

“You have to be fucking kidding me?!” Lexa mouthed at her sister.

“What?” Anya mouthed back. “You said go and get something!”

There was a moment of silence as Wellesley flitted over the scrawled handwriting on the page, taking in each word with the utmost seriousness.

“Er,” Anya cleared her throat and glanced at their new-niece. “Sorry about the card, kiddo. It was all the store had.” She quirked an awkward expression.

Wellesley smiled immediately and shook her head.

“It’s the best card I’ve ever had.” She chuckled and began to read aloud. “Dear Wellesley, or however you spell your name. I haven’t even met you yet and I already know you’re a better woman than your mom ever was — and that’s saying something, because she was a dynamite bitch. I’ll tell you about her someday, when you’re ready. For now I’ll wish you a merry christmas, a happy birthday, a great new year, and give you the piece of her that I’ve carried with me always. If you’re not ready for it, well, I can take it back and hold on to it until you are. My love, the cool aunt.” Wellesley finished and plucked out a thin gold chain locket that had fallen out of the card and on to her thighs.

Lexa suddenly felt guilty for chewing Anya out, because truth be told she couldn’t have done better herself with all the bunting in the world and a ten gallon tub of hummus to boot. She peered at a sister with a sigh and finally noticed the piece of jewellery that was missing from around her neck. It was a locket that Sadie gave Anya before she went to Fort Jackson for basic training.

“Are you sure you want me to have this?” Wellesley offered the locket forward to Anya.

Anya just smiled and closed the girl’s fist around the thin gold chain. “It’s where it belongs now,” she whispered and patted Wellesley’s hand. “Besides, it’s time for cake!”

 

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	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TW: This chapter features quite heavy-talk of what it felt like for Lexa to witness her sister’s Huntington’s Disease.

A month passed by and took them right into the miserable middle-month of winter where the snow turned into icy grey sludge and the January skies formed an impenetrable blanket that refused the sun. The world tried it’s hardest to be miserable, to grieve for the Christmas decorations that had been put back in their boxes until next year, but Lexa couldn’t help but be happier than she had been in a long time.

“Are you ready for your sister to come home from her first day of school?” Lexa cooed at the quiet and content little ball of podge in the baby bouncer. 

Maddie didn’t even glance at her, instead her stare remained focused entirely on Peppa Pig while her bare toes dug lightly into a sleeping Byron who had curled himself underneath her bouncer.

“Another year or so and you’ll be at nursery, kiddo. What the hell will I do then?” Lexa raised an eyebrow and slumped down on the floor with her back pressed up against the bottom of the sofa.

“Choc,” Maddie grunted and stared at the bag of Milky Way Bites in Lexa’s lap.

Lexa paused and blinked, staring at the fourteen-month old baby.

“Did you just say—”

“Choc!” Maddie babbled again and reached out her hand for a piece of mallow.

“Holy shit.” 

Lexa became unnerved by the idea that she was the first person to ever hear this tiny human utter a word. She blinked and handed the baby a piece of chocolate, which seemed to satisfy her. Maddie shoved the mallow in her mouth and turned back to Peppa Pig on the television.

The doctor portion of her brain was relieved. Lexa knew that some babies were just slow off the mark when it came to their first words, but the doctor part of her brain that was filled to the brim with all sorts of awful diseases and syndromes left her doubting whether Maddie’s unwillingness to speak was actually a symptom of something more sinister. She’d tried convincing Clarke that they should take her to a pediatrician but it only made the firefighter laugh. ‘When the kid’s ready to talk, she’ll talk and she won’t stop. Then you’ll be complaining that you never get a moment’s peace.’ She insisted with a reassuring kiss.

Damn Clarke for always being right.

“Lex!” Anya’s voice hollered down the hall as the front door opened and let in the draft. “Guess who kicked Wenton High School’s ass and had an amazing first day at school?!” 

Anya bounced through into the living room with her arm wrapped around a red-faced Wellesley, who looked nothing like the sulky bruise teenager who turned up at their door a month ago any more. Her hair was clean and washed, her uniform neatly pressed and co-ordinated, she looked like an ordinary kid now. It was heartwarming.

“You had a great first day?” Lexa beamed and wanted to jump up and high-five her sister. They really had gotten this ordinary-family-life thing down to a tee.

Wellesley rolled her eyes and dropped her backpack down on to the floor. “It was okay, I guess.” She shrugged and swiped a chocolate bite out of Lexa’s lap.

“Just okay?” Lexa prodded for further details.

“Yeah, I just don’t know what my clique is yet. I don’t think I’m cheerleader or drama club material, you know?” She peered up at both her aunts with another shrug. “For now, I’m just the new-transfer weirdo.”

Anya spoke up first.

“But the kids were nice right? Nobody picked on you??” She paced forward and slumped down next to her. “I’ve not got to call my buddies and come down there—”

“Relax, Anya,” Wellesley laughed and stared at her in disbelief. “You’re being a Lexa.”

“A Lexa?” Lexa’s brow piqued.

“Yeah, that’s what we call it when one of us loses our cool and does the big-eyed angry stare thing that you do all the time,” Wellesley joked and patted the top of Lexa’s head.

Lexa felt herself do the precise look they had not-so-affectionately named in her honour.

“Relax!” Wellesley grinned at her. “It doesn’t have to be a bad thing! So what if you’ve got grumpy Doctor Cristina Yang vibes written all over you? She was the biggest badass in Grey’s Anatomy anyways.”

“Ha!” Anya guffawed and kicked her feet up on the coffee table. “Lexa is an Izzie Stevens at best!”

“You better take that back!” Lexa shoved her sister’s leg and narrowed her eyes. “You’re Amelia Shepherd on a good day.”

“There was no need to bring it down to that level.” Anya glared.

“Guys,” Wellesley mediated with a soft tone that had them both glancing at her with a sigh. “You’re missing the point, we have to figure out what clique I’m going to be in for the next twelve-or-so months before I finish school. I’ve not got a lot of time to figure it out before I’m going to have to decide whether to go to prom with a boy or make a feminist statement and go with my friends… well, when I figure out who they are.” Wellesley made a funny expression.

Lexa couldn’t help but smile at the thought of Wellesley in a prom dress, which made her suddenly conscious of the fact she was smiling in the first place. A little over a month ago it was just her and Anya and truth be told she quite liked it that way. The Woods’ females had managed to double and multiply since then. It left her trying to play catch up most days, trying to be the aunt who was supposed to have had sixteen years of experience under her belt by now. She expected the art of loving the two girls under her roof would come slowly, tumultuously even, but it was in fact one of the easiest and most natural things she’d ever done. Though, the thought of Wellesley in a prom dress eventually left her feeling a little bit sad, mainly because Sadie would never get to see it. Lexa couldn’t help but think about the wedding dress Wellesley would wear one day, and how Sadie would never get to see that too.

“Lexa used to be a band nerd, you could always try your hand at that? I used to be a track-and-field jock but you don’t have the legs.” Anya laughed and poked Wellesley’s scrawny thin thighs.

“You were a band nerd?” Wellesley peered at Lexa and resisted the urge to laugh.

Lexa rolled her eyes. “There was nothing nerdy about it—”

“Oh, there so was!” Anya interrupted with a burst of laughter. “You don’t remember that awful green uniform and the gold-trimmed hat that was a size too big for you because mom insisted on you having Cousin Robert’s hand-me-downs?” She turned to Wellesley with an aghast look on her face. “The hat would slip down and me and dad would be on our asses laughing watching her trying to fall back into formation juggling a tuba in her arms with the cap over her eyes.” The story had Wellesley bursting with laughter too until they were both beet-red.

“Haha, hilarious.” Lexa soured and narrowed her eyes at her cocky sister.

“What clique was my mom—I mean, Sadie in? Was she one of the popular girls?” Wellesley’s question took them both by surprise.

Lexa paused for a moment, saddened by the fact she didn’t have an answer.

“Sadie was ten and a half years older than me so I didn’t know much about what she was like in high school. I would have only been six or seven at the time.” Lexa shrugged and tried to seem like she wasn’t grieving the fact.

A knowing smile crept up Anya’s cheeks. She leaned back with a deep sigh and rolled her eyes towards Wellesley. “Sadie was a total photography nerd. She took the pictures for the year book and was head of the prom committee. I’m pretty sure she was in debate club too, probably because her boyfriend Jeremy was the vice-president and she loved impressing boys.” She shook her head and made a pretend vomit-expression.

Lexa squinted one of her eyes in disbelief and couldn’t help but chuckle, because that was not Sadie at all. “Jeremy was never her boyfriend, and she would never do stuff just to impress boys because she was way too cool for that,” she said dismissively.

“Oh yeah?” Anya shot her a raised eyebrow. “You don’t remember all the times she babysat? How she’d give us five bucks and tell us to go to the store and get candy, and when came home the door was always locked and we had to sit on the porch steps for two hours until it got dark and cold?”

“She was in her room studying with her headphones on! She couldn’t hear us knocking on the door!” Lexa rolled her eyes and threw a piece of chocolate in her mouth.

“Lexa, she was sucking Jeremy’s dick and drinking that cheap martini stuff mom always kept behind the bookcase. You were six at the time so you don’t remember but I hopped the fence and tried to get in the back door and they were doing it right there in the living room. She told me that if I ever told mom and dad she would cut the hair off my Barbie dolls!”

“You’re lying,” Lexa sneered and refused the truth.

In her deepest and foggiest memories, Lexa recalled the trips to the convenient store pretty well. Their parents would go out for the evening and Sadie would be left in charge. Anya would have been around eleven years old at the time, and so Sadie would give her a few dollars and carefully instruct them to look both ways when they crossed the street and make sure they held hands the entire way there. Lexa would shake with excitement because of the sense of adventure while Anya whined and complained that she didn’t want to go outside - but Sadie would insist and so they did as they were told.

They would finally come home and knock on the door, and even though the lights were on nobody came down to let them in. They would knock and beat their fists red against the wood and windows until eventually they slumped down on the steps in defeat and waited for their eldest sister to realise they were outside. And even though it happened every time they took a trip to the convenient store, Lexa never minded. She was six years old with the coolest big sister in the world. She was more than happy to sit there and watch the cars go by with a Clark Bar in her hand until her fingers eventually turned numb from the cold. 

Sadie would eventually come to the door, flustered and apologising, explaining that she thought she’d left the catch off so they could get back in. Again, Lexa never minded. She always thanked her eldest sister for the candy and went to bed, happy and content.

“Sounds like Mommy Dearest was kind of a dick,” Wellesley murmured and seemed to grow sad, as if the thought of her birth mother being a tangible and complex person was a little too much to bear.

“Eh, she wasn’t all bad.” Anya shrugged and snuck a piece of chocolate out of the bag in Lexa’s lap. She shoved it into her mouth and began to chew and speak simultaneously. “When I was in high school it was pretty obvious I was gay. The boys in my grade didn’t like it one bit, which is probably why I got so fast at running, all things considered. They would write shit on my locker and dare girls to ask me to prom. When Sadie found out she threw a fit, I thought she was going to drive to the school and beat their asses which would have made things a thousand-times worse. She was smart though. She did one better.”

Wellesley perked up and grew interested again. “What did she do?” She furrowed her brows, deploying an utterly Sadie-like expression. 

It made Lexa smile.

“Well,” Anya continued, reminiscing with a smile too. “She drove home with one of her crazy hot college friends in-tow, and I mean this girl was insane hot. She was Anna-Nicole Smith circa. 1990 hot. She got the girl to come to my high school and ask me to prom. Nobody fucked with me after that when they thought I was dating a college-aged supermodel.” Anya laughed.

Lexa fiddled with her hands and become slightly jealous. Anya came out first which meant she got the big reaction and the swell of reassurance and love. When Lexa brought her first girlfriend home it was met with disapproval, because one gay daughter was swell and dandy but two presented the problem of viable grandchildren-producing daughters. It was followed with months of trying to convince her family she wasn’t just following leader or acting-out because Mom had died the year prior. Fourteen years later and a wife to boot, Lexa wasn’t certain their dad understood that it still isn’t just a phase.

“I don’t know why but I didn’t really imagine my birth mom was college-educated.” Wellesley scratched her head and pondered it. “I always just thought that maybe she was a drop-out at best. I kinda had this idea that if I went to college and finished school that I would have beaten her in some way…”

Lexa nodded, she could see why Wellesley would assume that Sadie was a low-life or a dead-beat, and the terrible irony was that maybe it would be easier to digest the fact she gave up a baby if she was any of those things. Instead, perfect-Sadie was perfectly perfect. She had a 3.7 GPA, then a bachelor’s in pre-med, followed by a master’s in female reproductive health. Sadie was well on her way to medical school to become an obstetrician… right up until Mom died, at least. Then her priorities shifted, and molding Lexa into a functioning adult and keeping Dad from drinking himself to death became the profession of choice. Once Sadie got the bad news of her own diagnosis, she was never really the same after that. Lexa had felt Sadie’s dreams turn to ash in her own mouth, and she mourned them on her sister’s behalf while she chased after her own.

“She was incredibly smart,” Lexa said with a troubled sigh, her chest hurting with a sense of grief for such a wasted life. “I know you don’t really want to talk about her all that much, and I get that. I didn’t like talking about her too for a long time, well, for different reasons, sure. But I like to think if she was here she could explain everything that happened and help us make sense of it.”

“Too bad she’s dead, huh?” Wellesley didn’t skip a beat, almost made furious by the audacity of her mother.

“You wouldn’t have wanted to see her before she died,” Anya jumped in with a serious expression. “She was sick towards the end. It would have been harder to hate her when she was lying in a hospital bed—”

“I don’t think Wellesley wants to hear about that,” Lexa interjected, grated near-raw by her sister’s comments.

“No, I do.” Wellesley shuffled in her seat and became intrigued. “Spill the beans, what is Huntington’s like? I might as well get familiar with it.”

Anya quirked an awkward expression and sat up straight, uncomfortable and unsure of how to have these talks. She glanced at Lexa and hesitated, as if she were waiting for her sister to guide the conversation.

Lexa exhaled through her nose and thought about it for a moment. It was hard to describe everything that happened with Mom, mainly because she was still so young at the time. She did however have a front row seat with Sadie and the memories of it sat thick and heavy in her brain like a terrible smog.

“It’s like watching a big oak tree towards the end of summer, knowing it’s going to lose its leaves.” Lexa swallowed and rubbed the back of her neck, blinking and quiet. “You know that eventually it’s going to be autumn and the tree is going to turn into a skeleton, but because it’s such a slow and gradual process the tree still looks mighty and proud somedays, like it’s been there for a thousand years and it’ll stay there for a thousand more… but leaves have already started gathering at the bottom, they’re all turning red and they’re falling off one by one. The tree starts to shake in the wind gently at first, but after a while the branches are swinging back and forth like they’re caught in a storm and all you want to do is reach out your hands—”

“Okay John Keats!” Anya interjected with a disapproving expression. “Do you want to save it for your thought journal? She’s sixteen.” Her sister glared and nodded towards the teenager.

“Sorry,” Lexa whispered and rubbed her forehead.

“What she means to say,” Anya began and then stopped, inhaling and doing her best to translate her thoughts into words. “Huntington’s is rough, but it’s not the end of the world. It doesn’t kill overnight. People can still live great lives. Our mom was diagnosed at twenty-two which is pretty early and for a long time she was fine, maybe a little forgetful or shaky sometimes but nothing more than that. She lived for nearly twenty years with the disease and it was only the last few years that shit hit the proverbial fan and she experienced advanced symptoms.”

“What is it that kills people in the end? Like, with cancer, the cells become faulty and interfere with how the organs do their job. I understand that. But what is it about Huntington’s that finishes people off?” Wellesley became serious.

“Hard to say.” Anya shrugged and kept it terse and brief. “For a lot of people it can drag on for years and it’s the pneumonia that gets them in the end. Mom had two heart attacks in the space of a year and the doctors said she wouldn’t make it passed a third. We all knew it was coming and the doctors were right. It was mercifully quick.”

Wellesley nodded. “So, how did Sadie die?” she asked quietly.

Anya paused and looked at her sister, stuck at an impasse.

“She died of a heart attack too,” Lexa said, comforted by the fact that it wasn’t a total lie. All she did was skip over the minor-detail that they gave it a helping hand. “If it’s something that’s on your mind we can send off for tests to see if you guys carry the altered gene—”

“Absolutely not,” Wellesley scoffed. “You think I want to find out that my mom walked out on me **and** gave me a terminal illness? It’s one or the other, she can’t do both. Besides, I don’t want to have it hanging over my head...”

“My thoughts exactly.” Anya fist bumped their niece.

It left Lexa swallowing the urge to be irate.

“If you want to be like Anya and roll the dice”—she grinded her jaw and struggled to remain cool-headed—“be my guest. I mean, what did Sir Francis Bacon even mean when he said that knowledge was power? Beats me.” Lexa chewed on the words.

“‘Knowledge is a burden if it doesn’t bring joy.’ — Ravi Shankar. If you want to get into a quote battle we can sit here all day and I will reign victorious. I can save you the embarrassment now though if you want and we could just agree to disagree, maybe eat dinner, watch some Netflix? Family stuff?” Wellesley smirked.

“This isn’t over.” Lexa wagged her finger and clambered up from the floor, which made the bag of chocolate pieces in her lap rustle.

“Choc!” Maddie snapped around from Peppa Pig and roared it aloud, tiny clenched fist pushed outwards towards the source of the rustling.

Wellesley gasped and stared at the baby in amazement. She blinked and allowed her mouth to hang agape, utterly speechless.

“Did she just say her first word?!” Wellesley snatched her eyes between her aunts in disbelief.

Lexa couldn’t bring herself to tell her the truth.

“Oh my god!” Lexa feigned surprise and looked down at little Maddie. “Did you just say choc?!” She cooed and raised her eyebrows in amazement, utterly determined not to ruin this for Wellesley.

“I can’t believe I got to hear her say her first word!” Wellesley’s voice started to wobble with emotion. She reached down and plucked Maddie from the bouncer, crooning at her for being such a clever girl. “I missed her first steps a few months ago because I was studying for a physics retake online, can you believe that?” She chuckled at her aunts and sat the little girl on her hip.

“Well it’s a good job you guys weren’t running late home from school!” Lexa chuckled too and felt her cheeks blush a deep shade of crimson.

Lying didn’t come naturally to Lexa, in fact, she despised having to lie full-stop. Even now she felt the urge to be honest swim and bump around her belly like an overactive goldfish. But truth be told she couldn’t help but see a little bit of reason and logic in the hippy-dippy bullshit that Wellesley had hit her with less than a moment ago. It wasn’t that she agreed when it came to the context of decisions concerning health and wellbeing, but maybe knowledge really was just a burden if it didn’t bring joy. Maybe that’s exactly why she and her sister had kept their mouths shut for the last two years about the truth of Sadie’s passing. Maybe it was exactly why she needed to keep her mouth closed now.

“I’m really happy you got to hear Maddie’s first words! You must feel like the proudest”—she felt herself nearly use the wrong word—“sister!” Lexa managed with barely a pause at all. Internally, she breathed a sigh of relief.

 

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	6. Chapter 6

It was a four and a half hour drive to their father’s home in upstate Michigan. February had brought an unexpected clearing of heavy snow that made for better driving weather and so the reckoning was finally upon them - it was time to pay Dad a visit. How he would react to Wellesley and Maddie, Lexa couldn’t be sure. Anya had promised that he seemed reasonable on the phone, that he was quiet but otherwise okay, all things considered.

Lexa couldn’t even imagine what a quiet Bobby Woods looked like. The man was a constant stream of wayward thoughts and half-considered musings. Their father was an English professor at one point in time and the habit of constant rambling was one that had always stuck with him. Granted, his career went to pot after Mom died and the mere act of opening the blinds and fixing something other than whiskey-ladled coffee for breakfast became too much for the man who used to juggle family dinners and mark literature assignments simultaneously. But no matter how sad or drunk he ever was, it never stopped him from wittering about one thing or another. The thought of him being made silent didn’t reassure Lexa at all, instead it did the opposite.

“How you doing back there, Claire?” Anya peered in the rear-view mirror with a smirk at Clarke, who was growing more and more nervous by the mile.

“Don’t start,” Lexa warned her sister with a sideways look.

Clarke huffed and continued occupying a restless Maddie with barely-buffering videos on her phone. She mumbled to herself and tried to seem unbothered, which she was terrible at. It made Lexa feel guilty. It wasn’t often that the human ray of sunshine became flustered, but the threat of spending time with Bobby Woods was more than enough to do it to her.

“I’m looking forward to this weekend,” Clarke said, lying through her teeth. “I’m sure me and Bobby will go ice-fishing, and you guys know that I love visiting Sleeping Bear Dunes—”

“Boring!” Wellesley rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. “Honestly, why would anyone want to live up here? It’s just trees, trees, and… oh look! More trees!” She pointed out the window to the white-dusted pines.

“It’s one weekend,” Lexa reminded everyone in the car—including herself—with a troubled sigh. “We can get through two days together as a family.”

Anya chuckled and turned on to the main bumpy road leading into Long Rapids. The pine trees grew sparse as the beginnings of settled areas finally started to break through. Lexa swallowed and shifted in her seat uncomfortably, aware that seeing Dad also meant acknowledging their mother’s replacement, Jilly, an otherwise kindly and unassuming widow with two children who just so happened to be seventeen years his junior.

“You excited to see Momma Jilly?” Anya read her sister’s mind and couldn’t resist to poke her into a deeper state of annoyance.

“Again, you’re not funny.” Lexa felt her teeth rattle as the tyres jolted against the uneven road.

“Oh come on!” Anya chuckled and glanced in the rear-view mirror at Wellesley. “She’s just sour because our stepmother is lovely,” she added.

“I’m sour because Jilly wasn’t even born when Mom and Dad started dating. It’s weird!” Lexa chewed.

Anya sighed. “You’re really not in a position to be indignant about his partner preference, Lex. All of the man’s remaining daughters are lesbians and he’s handled it pretty well given the circumstances.”

“That’s completely different and you know it.”

“All I’m saying is that it could have been worse! Dad could have mail-ordered a foreign bride? It happens,” Anya laughed to herself at the thought.

Lexa bristled. “Yeah laugh it up Anya, I’ll remind you how funny it is after he’s gone and our inheritance winds up in Jilly’s ugly cardigan pockets,” she said.

“You really care about the money that much?” Anya scoffed and narrowed a look. “Mom willed us her half of everything and if that’s all we get I’m more than okay with that. You’re quick to forget that Dad didn’t have to sell the house and give us our share of the money but he knew you needed it for medical school and so he did. The rest is his to do what he wants with - line up Jilly’s cardigan pockets or not,” Anya warned.

Lexa became quiet and contemplative, mainly because her sister wasn’t wrong and the fact irritated her beyond belief. There was no way she would have been able to afford her way through medical school bussing tables and flirting for tips if Dad hadn’t came through with the money. Mom would be disappointed if she was around to see what became of that two-hundred thousand dollar mistake of a career choice, Lexa knew that too.

Wellesley spoke up from the back of the car. “So your dad gave you all your half of the estate early?” Her eyebrow piqued.

“Something like that,” Anya replied.

“Medical school is expensive. He must have gave you guys a lot of money?” Wellesley asked the question with her face poking forward between the two front seats.

“Enough for me to buy a fixer-upper that I haven’t got around to fixing-up, which he isn’t exactly thrilled about.” Anya flicked the indicator and turned up the street.

“What happened to Sadie’s share? Does the rest of it get left to me and Maddie now?” Wellesley tried not to seem too hopeful.

Anya and Lexa grew silent, simultaneously.

“Well,” Anya said after a moment, swallowing uncomfortably. “The funny thing is—”

“Care homes are expensive, **getting sick** is expensive,” Lexa interrupted and turned around towards their niece with an apologetic expression. “I checked Sadie’s accounts after she passed and there wasn’t even enough to cover funeral costs. So no, there’s no big inheritance for you guys.”

It wasn’t exactly a lie. After Sadie died they discovered her bank accounts were empty and the equity share left in her house was barely enough to cover her collective debts. It was just the question of what exactly all that money was spent on that was still unanswered considering her insurance picked up most of the medical costs. Anya had her fair share of ideas, mainly that Sadie was either a drug or gambling addict, perhaps even both. In Lexa’s deepest hopes she just wanted to believe that the money was spent on good times and happy memories - she didn’t need any more information than that.

“I should have guessed Sadie would find one last way to screw me,” Wellesley scoffed bitterly and slung herself backwards against the car seat.

“That’s the spirit, kiddo,” Anya murmured and pulled along the street. “Just try to give Grandpa the abridged version of your feelings on the matter because Sadie was his favourite,” she added as the car came to a halt.

In front of the large single-storey house, their dad and Jilly stood on the porch with arms wrapped around each other like the perfect image of suburban bliss. The lumbering old German Shepherd, Milo, sprawled out next to them with his chin resting across both front paws - disinterested and otherwise unconcerned with matters such as abandoned babies and deceased mothers. Jilly, true to form, was wearing a powder blue cardigan that clashed horrifically with the light-pink checkered shirt she had donned for the occasion. She was grinning ear-to-ear, waving her hand like an over-excited toddler as the group exited the car and gathered their bags. Dad just stood there, tight-mouthed and silent.

“There’s my girls!” Jilly hollered and dragged Dad down the porch steps towards the car. “Oh, Anya!” she started with a wide-eyed expression and excitedly grabbed her forearm, Jilly lowered her voice as if she were departing a secret, “I remembered peach cobbler was your favourite and so I’ve got one in the oven with a sprinkle of something new that needs official taste-tested approval before I put it in the family recipe book.” She winked.

Anya offered a genuine smile and juggled her duffle bag on to her shoulder. “Good to see you too, Jilly,” she said with a slight laugh as she closed the car door. “How are the boys?”

“Growing up too fast.” Jilly levelled a serious expression. “Luke and Tommy are with their grandparents this weekend. We, er, thought that would be for the best given the news...” She forced an awkward smile and glanced at Wellesley and Maddie.

Lexa instinctively squeezed Wellesley’s arm. The urge to reassure her that she was a welcomed surprise became overwhelming. It did nothing to make the teenager less sulky or awkward. Wellesley stood there with her stare firmly fixed on her feet, fiddling with the rucksack between her hands while Clarke juggled Maddie out of the carseat and on to her hip.

“Lexa,” Jilly said with a smile and brushed back her graduated bob. “Is that… a new coat?” She stumbled for small-talk.

“No,” Lexa replied sharply.

“Well it looks nice.” Jilly nodded enthusiastically.

“Thanks.” Lexa ran her fingers of the cuffs of her sleeves. “I think I got it from Anthropologie?”

“Anthro-what-now?” Jilly leaned forward with raised eyebrows.

“Just a store,” Lexa shrugged.

“Oh well do I have news for you! Did you know there’s a new department store that opened in Montreat? We have a Kate Spade outlet now and everything. Maybe you, Wellesley, and I could go shopping and spend some quality time together?” Jilly chuckled and tried her hardest to extend an olive branch.

“Maybe.” Lexa forced a tight smile and felt her father’s expectant stare burn into the side of her head. “In fact,” she relented. “We would love to go shopping, right Wells?” She gritted her teeth and glanced at the teenager.

“Mmhm,” Wellsley went along with it.

Jilly visibly melted with relief.

“What are we doing standing out here in the cold!” Jilly said suddenly, her voice booming with laughter and warmth. “Let’s get you girls inside, there is so much for us all to talk about!” She walked forward towards Wellesley with a deep nervous inhale. “My name is Jilly but I guess it’s Grandma Jilly to you now, huh?”

“I guess so,” Wellesley forced an uncomfortable smile.

Lexa watched on as her step-mother gathered up the kids, Clarke, and Anya — ushering them towards the house like a dog rounding sheep while Lexa and her father were left to talk with one another and take the suitcases inside. Wellesley turned over her shoulder and offered Lexa a look of commiseration as Jilly took her up the porch steps, as if to say, ‘I completely understand why you’re not a fan of Jilly.’

It made Lexa feel slightly less alienated, for a moment at least. The front door closed behind them all until it was finally just her and Dad left out front.

“Hey Kiddo,” Dad finally spoke with a flat-expression that gave nothing away.

“Hey Dad,” Lexa sighed and gave him a hug.

Her father was maybe a clean six-foot and four inches, podgier now he was in his sixties too. It made Lexa feel small whenever she hugged him, like she was still twelve years old and all of her problems could be fixed with a gruff sigh and a barrelling hug from Dad. His hug was unenthusiastic, his hand barely patting her back before he was pulling away and straightening himself. Something was clearly on his mind. Lexa didn’t need two guesses to figure out what it was.

“It’s okay, I know it’s rough,” Lexa reassured quietly and commiserated with her father.

“Mhm,” Dad replied quietly and glanced at the wheels on the car, his eyes widening a bit. “I’m sure I told Claire on the phone to use snow chains for the drive up here - was she trying to slip off the road?” He furrowed his brow.

“It’s Clarke, Dad, and Anya was the one who drove so take it up with her—”

“Reckless!” He bristled and shook his head. “Did you close your curtains and leave the light on upstairs like I told you too? The last thing you want is a burglar walking past realising you’re out of town, Lexa.”

“Yes Dad I closed all the curtains and left the lights on,” Lexa lied, exasperated.

“Are you lying to me, Alexandra?”

“No,” Lexa swallowed and scratched the back of her neck. “Besides, do you want to talk about snow chains and curtains, or the sixteen-year-old that Sadie forgot to mention she gave birth to?”

Dad flinched at the statement. Lexa suddenly felt guilty. She opened and closed her mouth, as if on the verge of an apology. Dad waved his hand and swallowed hard, clearing his throat in the process.

“You should go inside and get warm, I’ll take the cases in.” He chewed his bottom lip.

“Dad—”

“I don’t want to talk about it, Lexa.” He shot her a look. “Your mother…  she would have known what to say, what to do. All I know is that my Sadie is gone and I don’t want a replacement. If it were up to me I would give her some money for the baby and send her on her way, I’m sorry if that isn’t what you want to hear.”

Lexa blinked and stared at her father, repulsed and ashamed. She understood on some level what it was he was trying to say, that this was a situation that encroached on his grief in a way that he couldn’t handle. That Sadie was his favourite. That the idea of a little bit of her being left in the world was somehow too much to bear. It didn’t stop the rage swelling in her throat.

“That’s a gutless thing to say,” Lexa snarled and chewed her teeth. “If they could hear you right now Mom and Sadie would be rolling in their—”

“If you dare finish that sentence, Alexandra.” He warned with a raised finger.

“Fine,” Lexa shrugged and swallowed hard, digging her hands in her pockets. “Let’s just try and make this weekend as smooth as possible and then we’ll get out of your hair, or what’s left of it at least.” She sniffed and walked towards the steps.

 


	7. Chapter 7

Dinner was awkward and silent, the air thrumming with possibilities for an argument. At one end of the table, Dad sat quietly with his elbow propping his chin. At the other, Jilly acted as the only source of conversation, she giggled and forced everyone to listen to pointless story after pointless story, always referring to their father as ‘Bob’ in each and every one of them, which Lexa hated. On the plus side, Jilly and Maddie were utterly enamoured with each other. The toddler sat happily on Jilly’s bouncing knee and didn’t fuss too much at all, which made a nice change.

Underneath the table Clarke squeezed Lexa’s hand whenever the threat of a disagreement reared its ugly head. Wellesley did well and made herself agreeable for once, she sat next to Anya with her stare focused intently on the food in front of her with an occasional nod thrown in for good measure whenever Jilly’s one-sided conversation drifted from one topic to the next. Lexa swallowed hard and felt as if it were that very first night back at the house all over again, except this time they had to contend with Jilly’s constantly sugary-sweet disposition in the mix too.

“...And so that was how Bob and I made the big leap and converted!” Jilly dabbed her grinning mouth with the napkin and rolled her eyes as if she couldn’t believe it too, still. “It’s taken some lifestyle alteration and we’re by no means going to shove it down your throats and try to convert you guys too!” She laughed, “But, we really feel like it’s such a positive change, don’t we Bob?” She rocked Maddie on her knee.

“Yes Dear,” he agreed, tersely.

It would have been more interesting if Jilly had been talking about Islam, or maybe the pull-out method, rather than the pair of them trading their Ford truck for a hybrid. But perhaps boring was exactly what everyone needed, Lexa thought to herself.

“Clarke is looking forward to heading to Sleeping Bear with you, Pop. My girl has been reading up on ice fishing for tips and tricks.” Lexa patted Clarke’s knee.

Clarke blushed and placed her cutlery down. “A little light reading, sure. I want my place in the big catch album this year.” She smiled and made the effort.

Dad nodded and rolled his tongue around his front teeth and incisors. “The good bass lakes have been overfished but Natural Resources extended the Elk season for population control, that’s what me and the boys have been up to the last few weekends.” He chewed another mouthful of food. “You know how to handle a gun?” Dad peered at Clarke.

“Do you?” Lexa interrupted with a snort and stared at her father. “You never had guns when we were growing up.” Lexa eyed Anya, waiting for her to jump in and back her up. 

Anya chewed her food and looked away, not interested in getting involved. Lexa simmered and stared daggers at her.

“Well you guys were raised in the city,” Jilly laughed and reached for the salt. “Things are different up here, there’s more game hunting and your father likes to take the boys—”

“It’s dangerous,” Lexa interrupted and threw her stare at her dad. “That was what you said, what you taught us, that guns are dangerous and if we ever dated boys who kept them you would throw a fit. What are you doing, Dad?” She lowered her tone.

“Jesus Lexa,” Dad simmered too. “There’s a big difference between some gangbanger or city boy taking a pistol out on the street and a weapon used for hunting. Christ, what are you even doing? Does everything have to be an argument?” He stared, dumbfounded.

Lexa inhaled and blinked, chewing on her words. “Sorry,” she finally muttered. “I guess things change, people too.” She forced a tight smile and shrugged.

“Don’t beat yourself up,” Jilly tried to offer a little comfort. “You didn’t mean any offence, I’m sure.”

“Oh, she did,” Anya added. “You get used to it after a while, Jilly.”

“I live with your father, you think I can’t handle it?”

Even Lexa couldn’t halt a small laugh at that.

“Fair point,” Anya surmised.

“So,” Clarke spoke to their dad, “Elk hunting it is?”

“You feel up to it?” Dad asked.

“Well, it’s nice to spend time with you Bobby,” Clarke said, cutting up her food.

“You can spot,” Dad suggested. “I don’t imagine you’re too sharp with a gun, wouldn’t want to find out the hard way.” He smiled.

“Then I’ll spot,” Clarke said, swallowing her pride as if it were the easiest thing in the world to do. “The yams are really good by the way,” she turned to Jilly.

“It’s the brown sugar you’re tasting,” Jilly noted. “The last time you guys came Lexa mentioned the recipe April used to do for Thanksgiving and well, I just thought it would be nice to make something familiar for the girls.”

Lexa felt a fire begin in her throat, her eyes widened until they near bulged out of her skull. She wanted to spit the food back on the plate. She wanted to snap and tell Jilly exactly what her mother, who at sixteen years her senior was old enough to be Jilly’s mother just about, would think of family recipes being bastardised by her husband’s fancy woman.

“Seems a little weird,” Wellesley chuckled and reminded them all she was sat at the table too, for a moment it had felt like she had disappeared. “I mean, they’re great, don’t get me wrong.” She shook her head and nodded down to the plate. “I just mean using their mom’s recipe. I’m sure you could knock together your own recipe.”

“I’m sure I could,” Jilly said quietly, forcing a smile. “Maybe it was a mistake to do that. God, I can be so thoughtless sometimes.” She waved her hand dismissively and became a little flustered.

“No,” Dad spoke up and looked around at everyone with a displeased expression that made him look old. He settled on Wellesley, his jaw grinding slightly angrily. “Kid, they're just fucking yams. Eat up before they get cold.” He shrugged and dug his fork in aggressively.

“Bob!” Jilly gawked in disbelief, her cutlery clattering against the plate.

He looked up at her sternly. “No. We’re not doing this. I told you before they got here, Jilly.”

“Please do not make a scene,” Jilly lowered her voice and glared.

“We agreed not to pussyfoot—”

“Robert Woods,” her tone became severe. “I did not spend three hours cooking for us to sit here and let our food get cold. We’ll discuss it later.”

“I’m not going to sit here and let my daughter or our…” He paused and looked at Wellesley again with a hard swallow, a little dumbfounded as to who or what she was to them. He turned back to his wife, “You’re not going to be spoken to like that anymore in our home, Jill. The yams are good. They’re good yams. You knocked them out of the fucking ballpark,” he bristled.

The room fell into an awkward, awful silence with everyone staring at their plates wondering how it was that between dead moms and surprise children it was finally sweet potatoes that tipped the boiling pot. Anya began to chuckle quietly, and even though Maddie didn’t know what was so funny she giggled too from Jilly’s lap. Everyone at the table looked towards Anya.

“The Great Yam War of 2020. Mom would love it,” Anya laughed boisterously and flung her head backwards. “For what it’s worth, I think she would be thrilled that the Thanksgiving yams got a new lease of life, Jilly. I bet her and Sadie are down there now laughing about all of this right now, too.” She chuckled hard.

“Down there?” Dad raised his eyebrows.

“A joke, dearest father of mine.” Anya smirked at him. “You and Lexa should try it some time, good for the heart they say.” She lifted a glass of wine to her lips.

“I’m funny. We’re funny,” Lexa said, pointing between herself and their dad.

“Yeah,” Dad chipped in, slightly offended. “We can be funny.”

“I think you’re all funny,” Clarke added, her cheeks burning a stark crimson against her pale complexion. She always was awful at acting like she wasn’t uncomfortable. “Wellesley is really funny too, maybe she gets it from you guys.” She peered at the teenager and tried to segue her into the conversation.

“Actually, I think I’m pretty dark. The family counsellor we have to go to says I need to lighten up a little,” Wellesley added, her eyes rolling mockingly at the thought.

“Makes sense,” Dad added and finished off his plate. “Teenage girls tend to be very mysterious and serious creatures, I’ve raised three of them and taught thousands. I wouldn’t read too much into what the quack says.”

“Do you miss being a professor?” Wellesley asked.

“Not really, no.”

“How come?”

“Well,” Dad said, swallowing and thinking about it for a moment. “I have a different lifestyle now. I’m older, I read more, go for walks, that sort of thing. Enjoying life isn’t a young man’s game,” he offered a very Bobby Woods-like nugget of thought. “What do you want to be when you grow up?” He asked.

“Lexa, Anya, will you help me clear the plates?” Jilly interrupted quietly with an expectant look.

…

Wellesley swallowed and watched her aunts get up from the table slowly. She knew well and good what was happening, Jilly wasn’t tactful in the slightest. This was the part where everyone slunk off and left them to talk and hopefully returned to a picturesque-scene of family reunion—the pair of them sobbing in one another’s arms and talking at length about Sadie. It made Wellesley want to roll her eyes at the stupidness of it all. 

Lexa hesitated for a moment as she picked up her plate and Wellesley knew she wanted to send Clarke in her stead, but Wellesley just smiled and nodded her head. She was fine with handling good ol’ Grandpa Bobby solo for a few minutes.

Clarke got the message too. “I should go and put the rugrat in her jammies,” she said and stood up from the table with the rest of them.

The plates were cleared, little Maddie was crooned over and passed from arm to arm, Clarke ventured off towards the guest room with Maddie on her hip, and then eventually the kitchen door was closed ajar. The pair of them, Wellesley and Bobby, were left at the table.

“I think they want us to talk,” Wellesley noted awkwardly.

“Astute. An academic we will make of you yet,” Bobby said with a shirk of his fuzzy brows. He leaned back in the chair, “You didn’t answer my question by the way.”

“I mean, do you really give a fuck or was it just for show? Because I really don’t mind sitting here in silence if you don’t want to speak to me. I get that I’m not the phone call anybody wants to receive.” Wellesley didn’t even flinch. “Oh,” she murmured and caught herself. “Sorry for cursing, Lexa thinks I shouldn’t—”

“Lexa thinks a lot of things,” Bobby interrupted with a small smile. “Curse words are just words. I guess if we’re being honest with each other I don’t know what to ask or what not to ask, Kid. I’m just... trying to understand you?” He sighed. 

Wellesley felt herself be looked at like she was a puzzle to piece together.

They sat in thoughtful silence for a moment. From the kitchen, the sound of water running and dishes clattering together echoed through the cracked-open door. It sounded like Anya and Jilly were getting along nicely, they were laughing and talking about sports. Wellesley wasn’t sure how Anya did it so easily, how she just accepted people as family and managed to treat them as such. It was admirable, if not a little strange. 

Wellesley wasn’t sure she possessed the same skill-set. It was easy with Lexa and Clarke because her and Maddie lived with them. Sometimes, she wondered if Lexa only loved her because she missed Sadie. Sometimes, she wondered if it was just because Lexa felt like she had no other choice but to love the pair of them. It left Wellesley feeling resentful on her worst days and indifferent on her best, but Wellesley loved the pair of them too, as much as she knew how. That was a scary realisation. Truth be told, she wasn’t used to loving people.

Her relationship with Anya was a different kettle of fish all together. Wellesley was very fond of her, but love would be the wrong word entirely. She wondered if that made her a bad person but she wasn’t opposed to giving things time. It was just different than it was with Lexa. Things were harder with Lexa, more intense for sure, but for the first time in a long time, Wellesley felt like she had something that resembled a mother figure in her life.

Wellesley turned back to her grandfather. “To be honest I don’t think I understand myself sometimes, so the odds are against you buddy.” She forced an awkward smile.

“Mhm,” Bobby agreed. “Sixteen is a weird age. A long time ago for me, but I remember it just about. I remember it better with the girls.”

“Mind if we don’t talk about Sadie?” Wellesley blurted. “I don’t mean to be rude, it’s just, I’m not there yet,” she acquiesced with a sigh.

“I’d prefer it if we didn’t either.” Bobby shifted and tightened his mouth. “Feels like that’s all anybody wants me to talk about nowadays,” he mumbled.

“I get that. It’s just weird, constantly being compared to someone I never met, constantly feeling like I have to…”

“Be like her and yet nothing like her?” Bobby suggested.

“I guess,” Wellesley said.

“Mhm,” Bobby murmured and distracted himself with a sip of his drink. “Maddie is a little gem, huh?” He forced a smile. “Jilly just loves babies, if we were a little younger we’d probably have another.”

“Girl or boy?” Wellesley prodded for conversation.

“I’ve never really thought about it too much. I always wanted a son, with Lexa and Anya’s mom, I mean. But life has a way of taking and giving, I’ve got Jilly’s boys now. They’re good boys, the oldest is around your age.” He smiled and nodded to a picture of the eldest, Luke, in his football uniform on the mantelpiece. “Do you think you’ll have another child when you’re older?” He asked innocently enough.

“What are you talking about?”

“Your daughter, Maddie? Think you’ll have another when you’re older or is one enough?”

Wellesley snapped her head up and stared at him. She was so concerned with protecting herself from any and all comparison to Sadie that she had completely forgotten the other, worse, most terrible line that could be crossed. The rage swelled up in her throat and made the muscles in her windpipe tight and thick. Bobby’s eyes grew wide with realisation that he had stuck his foot in it and he opened his mouth, no doubt to apologise, but Wellesley cut him off. 

“I don’t know, Bobby, some people aren’t supposed to be mothers. I bet I get that from Sadie. From what I hear she was a fantastic big sister… mother though? Not so much.” She wrinkled her nose. “Probably a good thing homegirl didn’t have any more before she bit the dust. So no children for me, ever.”

Bobby’s chin pushed out with a flare of his nostrils. He opened his mouth and then closed it again, his eyes pearling up and glassing over.

“I can see you’re upset,” he cleared his throat and held on to his self-restraint. “Maybe it’s something you should go and talk to Lexa and Anya about? I’m not much good with these things.” He gestured towards the kitchen door, telling her to politely fuck off in so many words.

“I’m not upset,” Wellesley replied and drummed her fingers against the table, upset. “I mean, it must be a real shame for you knowing Sadie never amounted to much but for me it’s not upsetting in the slightest. It just drastically lowers the bar for me, personally.” She shrugged.

It infuriated Wellesley that he had the self-restraint to withstand her desperate attempts to hurt him. There was no good reasonable explanation for it, she knew the old man didn’t like her. It was written all over his face the minute they pulled up this afternoon. Wellesley felt like she was the one who was hurting the most and she couldn’t understand it at all. It left her clenching the arms of her seat, teeth almost rattling, utterly stuck in the overwhelming need to punish this man for a crime she couldn’t quite put her finger on.

“Sadie used to do what you’re doing now.” Bobby forced a tight, pained expression. “Words were her favourite weapon too, you’re not as good at it as she was.” He quirked the corner of his silver-stubbled mouth.

“What does it matter anyways, she lives in a jar in the cupboard now. Not like she can hurt me anymore than she already has even if she wanted to.”

“Excuse me?” Bobby snapped, his eyes wide with hurt.

“You heard what I said,” Wellesley shrugged. “Sadie is dead. She’s in a jar. Who she was or could have been really doesn’t matter anymore.” 

Bobby stood up in shock and blinked slowly, his quivering throat finally settled back down as he coughed it clear. He turned and looked at Wellesley and forced a small, sad smile.

“She was a brilliant woman, your mother, and she knew it too. She would have loved you to the moon and back,” he sighed and turned to walk out the room.

The words stung her in the worst way possible.

“That’s funny.” It made Bobby stop and hold the door frame. “She didn’t seem to know how brilliant she was when she threw her life away to take care of her sad, drunk father,” Wellesley punched out the words with small bitter tears in her eyes. “Who knows? Maybe she would have kept her baby if she wasn’t so busy mothering you!” She shouted.

It was only once she finally said it that she realised how deeply she believed those words. Perhaps if Bobbie hadn’t of needed her, if he had managed the loss of his first wife better, Sadie would have came back for her. Maybe Wellesley would have got to have a mom and family after all. Maybe this was all his fault.

“How could you **ever** put that blame on him?” 

Wellesley snapped her head around and caught sight of Lexa’s furious eyes at the kitchen door. The shocked and saddened faces of Anya, Jilly and Clarke peered around the doorframe and over the roofs of Lexa’s shoulders towards her. 

Wellesley felt a sudden rush of embarrassment, of realisation, maybe. It was a new feeling. An awful, horrible feeling. She had never cared what other people thought of her before but this time Wellesley felt utterly humiliated and ashamed that an audience had witnessed one of her verbal assaults. She receded into her seat as if, with any luck, it might swallow her whole.

“Dad,” Lexa turned to her father with cautious eyes.

Bobby raised his hand to halt Lexa and rubbed his quivering lips, chewing them between his teeth when the emotion became too much. “I, er,” he paused, his voice utterly broken and fraught. He held back tears and waved it off, drumming his fingers against his chest, shaking his head.

“It’s alright,” Jilly said, she pushed her way past Lexa and into the center of the dining room. “We’re all new at this, emotions are running high.” She glanced between the pair of them. “Why don’t we all sit down and figure this out. Or not? We could play Monopoly instead if you guys don’t feel up to it?” She tried desperately to sound cheery.

“Sorry. I should, I should, er,” Bobby muttered under his breath as he began to cry thick, violent tears that couldn’t be held back. 

It was as if something awful had been awoken with him. Bobby wiped them away and disappeared out of the room, the long sound of his sobs echoing the hall as he rushed as fast as he could away from them all.

Wellesley realised that she didn’t feel better at all for having broken him to pieces. Not even in the slightest. Lexa’s stare landed on her and she knew she was really in trouble now.

“Don’t,” Clarke whispered and grabbed Lexa’s arm.

Lexa stood there and swallowed, absolutely shaking. Clarke rubbed a thumb over her wrist, patiently quiet as she tried to calm her down. Wellesley peered down at the table and felt Lexa stare at her like a heat-seeking missile.

“Why would you.” Lexa started and stopped, her voice wobbling with rage. She looked around the room. “So much trouble. Big, big trouble, young lady,” her voice became sharp.

“Don’t,” Clarke reminded her softly, pulling her aside. “This was part of the deal when we took them, we knew it wasn’t going to be sunshine and rainbows,” she lowered her voice.

“He’s never cried,” Lexa reminded her.

“I know.”

“The funerals, the anniversaries, nothing. Not once.” She threw her hands up.

“I know,” Clarke hushed and tried to calm her down.

They spoke in muttered tones that only stung Wellesley all the more. Lexa tossing her hand in the air with exasperation, her green eyes darting around the room. Clarke squeezing her biceps, reassuring her into a state of quiet.

“What do we do now?” Lexa asked.

“Whatever feels right for everyone,” Clarke comforted. “We can stay or go.”

 _Are they talking about giving up me and Maddie?_ Wellesley thought.

“Don’t listen to the grown ups talk,” Jilly urged Wellesley with a calm, kind voice. She sat herself down at the table in the seat opposite her. “Everything will be okay, you’ll see. You were just upset, that’s all, my Tommy can be like that sometimes… strong headed, willful. Maybe you’ll make the first lawyer of the family?” She nudged with a trying smile.

Wellesley peered up and tried to swallow the nerves, the adrenalin, the pulsating feeling in her head that made her want to scream and punish all of them for making her feel things she didn’t want to feel. She glanced at Anya, who was the only one who hadn’t spoke. She just stood there, gaunt and pale with a look of disbelief in her eyes.

“I’m sorry,” Wellesley whispered.

Anya blinked herself back to reality and looked at her. “I’m not angry with you, Wells, you don’t need to apologise to me,” she promised, her voice lingering as if she were in thought. “We’re just going to have to talk about the whole situation once the dust has settled,” she sounded resolute.

“Talk about what?” Wellesley started to panic. 

“It’s nothing to worry about,” Anya said with a quirk of her brow. “We’ll figure everything out. It seems like maybe everybody just needs some closure, that’s all.”

Wellesley didn’t feel reassured in the slightest.

Jilly softly touched her arm. “I promise you, it seems like you’ve really stuck your foot in it, and sure, you have, but it’s nothing we can’t—” The sound of the front door slamming cut her off. The noise made a napping Maddie start to bawl from upstairs.

Everyone peered towards the window. The sight of headlamps beaming brightly from the driveway seared the dining room, the truck reversed onto the road and disappeared down the street.

“Shit,” Lexa muttered and rubbed her temple. “Somebody needs to go after him.” She looked around the room at the other adults expectantly.

Anya shook her head in surprise and stared at where the truck had been a few moments ago. “Sorry, Lex, it’s just that truck engine was so surprisingly quiet.” She pointed out the window. “Caught me off guard. You might make a convert out of me yet, Jilly.”

“Told ya. I’ll grab my coat,” Jilly jumped up out of her seat.

Lexa looked at her sister. “Does everything have to be a fucking joke to you?” she asked Anya.

“What? Just trying to lighten the mood?” Anya shrugged and fiddled around in her pockets for her own car keys.

Jilly looked at Lexa. “There’s not many places around here he could go to, nowhere that would serve him at least. I’ve seen to that. I’ll bring him back and we can all sit down for dessert if it isn’t too late.” She picked her car-keys up from the mantelpiece and darted out of the room.

Wellesley knitted her brows together. “Isn’t he like, a thousand years old? Why are you all so worried about him going out to cool off?” She licked her lips and wasn’t sure she wanted an answer.

“Because, _genius_ , he’s a recovering alcoholic.” Lexa spoke with a rub of her temples. “God knows where he thinks he’s going but he’ll probably pass a bar or four on his way there.”

The words hit Wellesley hard and a sick feeling came over her. There was no way they were going to keep her and Maddie now, not in the slightest. It was one thing having an outburst, of playing the war of words game with a grieving old man, but this had disaster spelled all over it.

“Guys,” Jilly reappeared, forcibly serene, zipping up her bodywarmer. “Everything will be fine we all need to just take a nice, big, deep breath.” She inhaled deeply with a raise of her hands and released it out of her mouth as she lowered them, “And r-e-l-a-x.”

“Oh go suck a big fat dick, Jill.” Lexa soured instantly and took Jilly by surprise. “And as for you, young lady,” she told Wellesley with a pointed finger. “That was an awful, horrible, horrific thing to say to someone! You are in **such** hot water!” 

Wellesley shrivelled and instantly remembered what it felt like to be foraging on the streets in mid-February. If they were going to kick her out then she would go out with a bang, she decided.

“Fuck you, Lexa.” Wellesley shuddered and slung herself up out of the chair. It caught them all off guard. “ **I knew** this would happen. The minute shit hit the fan you were bound to want rid of me. You don’t want me anymore? Fine. I don’t want you either and I don’t need you anyway!” she hissed, her words hurting herself more than anyone.

“Wells,” Lexa paused and became somber, her eyebrows furrowing with concern. “You think we don’t want—”

“I’m not Sadie!” Wellesley wiped away embarrassed tears and clung to her rage like it was a comfort blanket.  “And as for your fucking dad? I hope he drinks himself to death and you bury him too! I might have had a mother if it wasn’t for him! If Jilly had any sense she would pack her bags and leave because all of you are toxic, fucked-up, nasty people.” She launched the centerpiece from the table at the chimney breast, shattering it into a dozen little pieces.

Wellesley grabbed the thin necklace around her neck and ripped it off with one hard tug. She paused, her heart feeling like it might break into a thousand crystalline pieces just like that table ornament, and then she tossed it at Anya’s feet.

“You can have her back,” Wellesley said, nodding angrily at the necklace Sadie had gave her before she went to basic training. “I don’t need her and I never will.”

Wellesley darted out the room and left them all in shocked silence. Maddie was squealing a racket upstairs, it made Wellesley pause for a moment and glance at the stairs leading up to the bedroom - in two minds about whether to get her sister. There were a thousand things rushing through her mind, going round and round, too fast for her to grab on to a single thought and make sense of everything. She needed air. She needed to breathe. She needed to grieve. She needed to hate her mother, her grandfather, the whole bunch of them for leaving her in that damn hospital.

She would come back for Maddie, but she needed to get outside and run. She needed to run so fast it made her knees sore. She needed to run so far that her thighs gave out. She needed to get lost so deep into the guts of nowhere that there wouldn’t be a single soul to see her weak and vulnerable like this. She would come back for Maddie, she knew that, because in that regard she and Sadie couldn’t be further polar opposites.

“Wells!” Clarke called and appeared from the dining room, her expression changing to one of desperation as she caught sight of Wellesley’s fist around the front door handle. “Please don’t run off…”

Wellesley opened the door and took off down the opposite way of the street.

…

The front door slammed shut once again and Lexa felt the force of it vibrate through her gut. It was an instant sort of panic, it was felt in her gut, in her windpipe, in the backs of her knees. She paused and felt conflicted for a moment, unsure of whether to go after her father or her niece first. 

She clenched her eyes closed and hated herself for trying to be angry with Wellesley the way her parents were angry with her when she was a teenager. It was so easy to forget the circumstances of Wellesley’s life and how they diverged from her own. Lexa had the great benefit of never doubting for a moment that her family loved her. Every family Wellesley ever had turfed her out at one point or another, the Woods’ clan first and foremost on that list by default. 

Lexa should have prefaced her exasperation, she knew that, now. She should have told Wellesley that yes, alright, she was upset, but that it wasn’t a give up and go home kind of anger. It was a scared anger. In the back of her mind she was hurt over the things Wellesley had said too, but that was a problem for another time. Wellesley didn’t really mean it, Lexa knew that it was just her way of trying to protect herself.

“I think that went really well,” Anya said dryly and picked the necklace up off the rug. Lexa glared at her hard. “Okay, not the time or place - got it,” Anya added with a point of her finger.

“Anya, take Clarke and go look for Bob, will you?” Jilly spoke up. “Lexa and I should go after Wellesley—”

“I’ll go. I don’t need back up,” Lexa interrupted and tried to ignore her stepmother as best she could. She grabbed her coat off the armchair and patted herself down for her keys.

“You’ve visited here three times, Lexa. You wouldn’t even begin to know where to look! She’s on foot which means she could have took off into the woods! ” Jilly scolded her. “Now I don’t really give a damn if you don’t like me, but I do expect you to be able to put that aside so we can go and bring that girl back before she gets herself in trouble.” She straightened her bodywarmer.

“She’s right,” Clarke agreed. “I think Wellesley needs you more than she needs me right now, this seems like it’s very much a Sadie-problem. I should help Anya look for your dad.”

“Alright,” Lexa conceded and kissed her wife on the cheek. “She won’t have gotten far. Come on, Jilly.” She rushed out of the dining room with her stepmother quick on her tails.

 


End file.
